Page 706 - for-the-term-of-his-natural-life

she expected to see the chaplain. Locking the door, he pro-
ceeded hastily to dress himself in North’s clothes. He would
wait until his aid was absolutely required, and then rush out.
In the darkness, Sylvia would mistake him for the priest.
He could convey her to the boat—if recourse to the boats
should be rendered necessary—and then take the hazard of
his fortune. While she was in danger, his place was near by.
From the deck of the vessel the scene was appalling. The
clouds had closed in. The arch of light had disappeared, and
all was a dull, windy blackness. Gigantic seas seemed to
mount in the horizon and sweep towards and upon them.
It was as though the ship lay in the vortex of a whirlpool, so
high on either side of her were piled the rough pyramidi-
cal masses of sea. Mighty gusts arose—claps of wind which
seemed like strokes of thunder. A sail loosened from its
tackling was torn away and blown out to sea, disappearing
like a shred of white paper to leeward. The mercury in the
barometer marked 29:50. Blunt, who had been at the rum
bottle, swore great oaths that no soul on board would see
another sun; and when Partridge rebuked him for blasphe-
my at such a moment, wept spirituous tears.
The howling of the wind was benumbing; the very fury
of sound enfeebled while it terrified. The sailors, horror-
stricken, crawled about the deck, clinging to anything they
thought most secure. It was impossible to raise the head to
look to windward. The eyelids were driven together, and
the face stung by the swift and biting spray. Men breathed
this atmosphere of salt and wind, and became sickened.
Partridge felt that orders were useless—the man at his el-

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