eared to bring its own
remedy, for the irregular fitful gusts from the mountains had already
ceased, and were succeeded by a strong but steady gale from the north; and
the sorrow of Maso soon ended its characteristic plaints, to take a more
continued and even character.

During the whole of the foregoing scenes, the Common passengers had
crouched to the deck, partly in stupor, partly in superstitious dread,
and much of the time, from a positive inability to move without incurring
the risk of being driven from the defenceless vessel into the lake. But,
as the wind diminished in force, and the motion of the bark became more
regular, they rallied their senses, like men who had been in a trance, and
one by one they rose to their feet. About this time Adelheid heard the
sound of her father's voice, blessing her care, and consoling her sorrow.
The north wind blew away the canopy of clouds, and the stars shone upon
the angry Leman, bringing with them some such promise of divine aid as the
pillar of fire afforded to the Israelites in their passage of the Red Sea.
Such an evidence of returning peace brought renewed confidence. All in the
bark, passengers as well as crew, took courage at the benignant signs,
while Adelheid wept, in gratitude and joy, over the gray hairs of her
father.

Maso had now obtained complete command of the Winkelried, as much by the
necessity of the case, as by the unrivalled skill and courage he had
manifested during the fearful minutes of their extreme jeopardy. No sooner
did he succeed in staying his own grief, than he called the people about
him, and issued his orders for the new measures that had become necessary.

All who have ever been subject to their influence know that there is
nothing more uncertain than the winds. Their fickleness has passed into a
proverb; but their inconstancy, as well as their power, from the fanning
air to the destructive tornado, are to be traced to causes that are
sufficiently clear, though hid in their nature from the calculations of
our forethought. The tempest of the night was owing to the simple fact,
that a condensed and chilled column of the mountains had pressed upon the
heated substratum of the lake, and the latter, after a long resistance,
suddenly finding vent for its escape, had been obliged to let in the
cataract from above. As in all extraordinary efforts, whether physical or
moral, reaction would seem to be a consequence of excessive action, the
currents