hurrah! To h--l with ye, where you belong, ye--"
"Silence aft!" shouted Seymour, in a voice of thunder. "Keep fast that
gun; and another cheer like that, and I put you in irons, Thompson."
The water in the front of the Mellish suddenly became darker, the
breakers disappeared, the ship was in deep water again; she had the
open sea before her, and was through the channel.
"We are through the pass, sir," said Bentley.
"I know it," answered Seymour, at last. "I suppose there is no use
beating back around the shoal, Bentley?" he said tentatively.
"No, sir, no use; and besides in this wind we could not do it; and,
sir, you know nothing will live in such a sea. Look at the Englishman
now, sir."
The captain turned at last. The frigate was a hopeless wreck. All
three of her masts had gone by the board; she had run full on the rocky
ledge of the shoal at the mouth of the channel. The wind had risen
until it blew a heavy gale; no boat, no human being, could live in such
a sea. The waters rushed over her at every sweep, and she was fast
breaking up before them. Night had fallen, and darkness at last
enshrouded her as she faded out of view. A drop of snow fell lightly
upon the cold cheek of the young sailor, and the men gazed into the
night in silence, appalled by the awful catastrophe. Bentley,
understanding it all, laid his hand lightly on Seymour's arm, saying
softly,--
"Better clear the wreck and get the mizzen topsail and the fore and
main sail in, sir, and reef the fore and main topsails; the spars are
buckling fearfully. She can't stand much more."
"Oh, Bentley," he said with a sob, and then, mastering himself, he gave
the necessary orders to clear away the wreck and take in the other
sails, and close reef the topsails, in order to put the ship in proper
trim for the rising storm; after which, the wind now permitting, the
ship was headed for Philadelphia.
As Seymour turned to go below, he came face to face with Talbot. The
two men stood gazing at each other in silence.
"We still have an account to settle, Mr. Talbot," he said sternly.
"My God," said Talbot, hesitatingly, "was n't it awful? How small,
Seymour, are our quarrels in the face of that!" pointing out into the
darkness,--"such a tremendous catastrophe as that is."
Seymour looked at him curiously; the man had not yet fathomed the depth
of the catastrophe to him, evidently.
"As for our quarrel," he continued in a manly, gener
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