young ladies appreciate the attentions of a well-bred, handsome young fellow, who, naturally indolent, evidently puts himself out of the way to give them pleasure; his youth and respectful ways are agreeable to them; his honied talk, if it is not insipid, is musie to them. And if this is so in the general case, how much more grateful was such an acquaintance to a friendless, almost penniless girl, quite unaccustomed to be made much of, and who had never listened to a compliment, neatly turned, from the lips of any man. She blamed Mr. Gresham's folly for having put it out of her power to enjoy his society any longer; but she forgave him. It was very foolish of him to entertain such feelings as he had expressed to her, of course, but if he really did entertain them; if, as he said, he had merely spoken the simple truth to her out of the fulness of his heart, she must needs pity him. she pitied herself also.

But

As for Mr. Gresham, left alone on the slanting deck in undisputed possession of his railway rug, he was furious with himself for having kept no better guard upon his tongue. Any one but himself, he argued, would have had more sense than to insinuate, far less declare, his passion for this simple, innocent girl, on so short an acquaintance. He might well congratulate himself that she had not taken his words as a positive insult; that she had set him down for the fool he was, instead of a scoundrel. It had been the height of self-conceit in him to take it for granted that the grateful acquiescence with which this poor, friendless girl had received his attentions, was a reciprocation of his own ardent feelings. What was there in a great hulking fellow like him, that almost at first sight a modest young woman should have been ready to listen to his protestations of love-for what he had said to her, he admitted,

that he was not a thief-certainly not acquired the right to talk to her as a lover. It was a sign he felt his mistake very seriously, that he did not grumble to himself because he had foregone the delights of Paris and the pleasure of meeting Fred Mayne, his old college friend, there, as had been agreed upon, all for nothing- or for worse than nothing-as the being snubbed by this young woman might well be termed. Miss Elise Hurt was the exclusive object of his reflections and regret. He reproached himself for having gone so far as he had done with her, upon another account, also, which for the present need not be mentioned, especially as if he had succeeded in getting her to listen to him, he would not have experienced much remorse. Moreover, though that was a small thing, in comparison with the main distress and disappointment, he had deprived himself, by his own folly, of a charming companion on the voyage. And such a voyage as it was like to be! The packet, half laden with cattle, was by no means the sort of craft which Mr. Gresham was wont to patronize. He always went by the best steamer and by the shortest route. He was never sea sick; but he did not like to be inconvenienced. And now what had he let himself in for? A voyage at the best, of uncertain duration, in a clumsy vessel, labouring in a raging sea against a gale from the south-west; while at the worstthough to do him justice, he was not one to look on the black side of things -he might find himself united with the object of his affections at the bottom of the Channel.

CHAPTER VI.

DRIVING SHOREWARD.

RESHAM was no sailor, and he was by no means easily impressed with the sense of personal dan

ger; but, as the gale increased, he could not avoid the suspicion that the Rhineland was incompetent to fight against it, though whether this arose from her build, or the weakness of her engines, or the incompetence of her crew, he was no judge. He only

knew for certain that she sank lower in the trough of the sea, remained longer than she had at first in those briny depths of the colour and opaqueness of bottle glass, and rose to the surface no longer buoyantly, but, as it were, with a dead lift. His view of matters was essentially that of a landsman, of course, yet it was clear that things were not as they should be. For example, notwithstanding his thick Ulster and the railway rug, he had now scarcely a dry thread on his body, for wave after wave washed the deck, so that it seemed at times to be under water. Seated at the foot of a mast in almost the centre of the vessel, he was in as level a spot as could be attained, yet his feet were as often as not higher than his head, and only by gripping a taut rope could he save himself at every lurch from being swept with the outgoing waters against the bulwarks.

There had been one or two male

passengers who, like himself, had preferred the rough usage of the storm to the sights and sounds, and smells that were only too certain to be met with below stairs; but even these had, sooner or later, sought the shelter of the cabin, save one individual, with bright grey eyes and keen, weatherbeaten face, who now ensconsed himself close to Gresham. 'When there is war among the elements,' he observed, with a strong American accent, 'man and beast, fore-cabin and saloon passenger, all herd together in presence of the common danger.'

The idea of this individual from the second cabin thinking it necessary to apologise for his intrusion on a privileged locality during what, not only to Mr. Gresham's eyes, but in actual fact, had become little less than a hur

ricane, tickled that gentleman's sense of humour.

'You have been in a good many gales like this, no doubt?' said he, good naturedly, and also, perhaps, with a secret hope that his companion might reply in the affirmative.

'I have been in a good many gales, yes, sir, but not in one like this,' answered the other, slowly. This is a most all-fired and catawampsious tornado.'

'Do you think the ship will live through it' inquired Gresham, in as indifferent a tone as he could assume.

'I have not given my consideration, sir, to that contingency,' was the reply, delivered with a most philosophic air; I don't care two cents about the ship, which, moreover, is doubtless insured beyond her value; but if you ask my opinion as to whether you and I will live through this tornado-well, I give it you plump, I don't think we shall. If I was on dry land, and yet in possession of the facts concerning our position, I would lay ten dollars to one against any person on board this ship getting to land alive.'

'God bless my soul!' ejaculated Gresham, half mechanically, half from the serious shock of this communication.

'Yes, that's just what it's come to,' answered the other; the coolness, not to say the cynicism of whose tone was greatly intensified by a certain prominence in his left cheek which looked as though he were putting his tongue in it, but was really attributable to a plug of tobacco. 'A man-if he's to be called a man-knows how to take the last hard slap of Fate; the one with which she knocks you down for good and all. But the women, they mostly take to hysterics. There will be sad scenes down there, I reckon,' and he pointed to the cabin. 'It's time for them as has Prayer-books to sport 'em.'

'You are a seafaring man, of course, and I am a landsman,' answered Gresham, gravely; else I had hoped that

my ignorance of the extent of our danger had magnified it. Why is it you take such a gloomy view of our position?'

'Well, the Rhineland is not Al, and few vessels even that are such could bear such a buffeting as this for many hours; the engines don't work, in my opinion, as they should do; we're lower in the water than we should be, and I guess there's water on board below stairs. Moreoverbut look yonder and judge for yourself. Our captain would not heave that ballast overboard unless he were in great straits.'

Gresham's eye followed the direction of his companion's finger and perceived that one side of the cattle pen had been removed, and a corresponding portion of the ship's bulwarks swung back upon its hinge, so that with every roll of the ship to leeward many sheep and oxen fell into the sea. It was a simple way of unloading, which the position of the ship, now on one side, now on the other, alone could have rendered possible.

There will be less meat for the English markets,' observed Gresham, resolved not to be outdone in coolness by the representative of Cousin Jonathan.

'There will be also less mouths to eat it,' was the quiet rejoinder.

'Is it not possible to put back?' inquired Gresham.

'No. To steer one point out of the wind's eye would be to write Finis.'

If the gale doesn't abate, in short, we are dead men.'

'Nay, things are not quite so bad; if we can presently hold our course to westward, we shall have the wind behind us. Then we shall run as if the devil were kicking us; and if we are not pooped may find ourselves in Bristol instead of Heaven.'

Though the stranger spoke as if quite indifferent to the alternative, Gresham noticed that his eye watched narrowly every event-or mischance, for the words were now identical

that took place on board: the breaking loose of various articles that had been hitherto secured to the deck; the occasional crashing of the bulwarks; the lessening load of live stock; the behaviour of the two men at the wheel, and the gestures of the captain, who, despite wind and wave, stuck like a limpet to his post upon the bridge between the paddle boxes. He understood from what his companion said that if the ship were once in the Bristol Channel there would be a better chance for her, notwithstanding that she would be exposed to dangers of another nature.

Matters had thus endured for many hours, when the calls of hunger necessitated Gresham's descent into the saloon.

'If you are going to the larder,' said his Transatlantic friend, put both meat and drink in your pocket as I do'- and he produced a flask and a loaf-for you may need it.'

'You mean if we have to take to the boats? But one of the sailors told me that nothing but a lifeboat could float in such a sea as this.'

'Never mind what the sailor told you. Do what I tell you. Depend upon it Providence always takes the most care of those who never throw away a chance.'

There seemed good sense, if not much faith, in this advice; and Gres ham procured certain supplies from the ship's steward accordingly. That functionary was very pale and silent, and took the money without a trace of his usual promptness on such occa sions. Although no sailor, he had been too many voyages in the Rhinoland not to know that there was somcthing greatly amiss with this one.

The passengers in the saloon, too, were silent; uttering only a moan or a groan as the shock of a wave threw them from their moorings on the sofas. Some of them had a frightened look in their eyes, like that of a hunted creature who knows not whither to fly; but most had a stern,

grave air. One or two sat hand in hand with their wives, who were weeping silently, but there were very few women present. Gresham glanced into the ladies' cabin as he passed by its open door, and saw Elise Hurt sitting at the corner of the sofa that ran round the room. Her calm, quiet face presented a strange contrast to the sorrowful and despairing looks of her companions.

She rose, and, holding by the little pillars of the cabin, made her way towards him. 'Are matters really so bad, Mr. Gresham,' inquired she, quietly, as they are thought to be down here?'

'They are very bad,' he said. Would you prefer to come on deck? If I shall not be in the way, I should,' answered she, simply.

The relations between them, it was understood by both, had altered with external circumstances, in the presence of such sudden destruction as threatened them, all prudery disappeared; face to face with death it was moreover impossible that love should again become the topic of con

versation.

'Put on every shawl and wrap that you possess,' he gravely said; and she obeyed him.

At the foot of the cabin stairs a lurch more violent than usual shook the vessel, and Elise would have fallen had not the young man clasped her in his arms.

As the vessel lurched a murmur of apprehension arose from the inmates of the saloon. What has happened, Mr. Gresham?' she exclaimed.

'I think the ship has changed her ⚫ course : we are running before the wind.'

They got on deck, and reached their old place of shelter with less of difficulty than Gresham had met with in leaving it; for what he suspected had, in fact, happened. The vessel was now steaming or rather scudding, for the paddles were of little use -with the gale behind her. The

pitching and the rolling of the ship had somewhat mitigated, and her stern was now receiving the giant blows that had heretofore fallen on her bows. Neither cattle nor sheep now remained on board, and all things that had not been secured to the deck, or formed part of it, had been swept away. The Yankee had

gone below, and besides the two men lashed to the wheel, the captain on the bridge, and the sailors at the pumps which were kept constantly going the two young people were the only persons who now braved the

'Sit here, Elise,' said Gresham, without the least consciousness of having addressed her by her Christian name; and do not turn your head or look behind you.'

6

Being a woman-or perhaps it would be fairer to say, being human -Miss Hurt immediately looked behind her to behold a sublime spectacle? The sea seemed to be pursuing the ship with open mouth, with the literal intention of swallowing her! Huge mountains of dark green water, fringed with flying foam, were rushing at headlong speed after their trembling prey. It was a chase wherein the odds against the hunted thing were as a thousand to one; for strength and life were failing it. The Rhineland flew with amazing speed, but no longer of her own volition.

There was a certain light to starboard, by which it was attempted to steer obliquely, but the ship scarcely answered her helm at all; though this, as it happened was of small importance, for the light was a floating one

-the Hope lightship, which the gale had driven from her moorings two miles nearer shore. A little canvas, with extreme peril, had been spread in

the forepart of the ship, when she changed her course, to keep her head straight, but this had instantly been split to ribbons. It was plain to the most inexperienced eye that the labouring and groaning vessel was almost in extremis.

Suddenly a tremendous sea broke over the bow, sweeping everything, including even the boats, to the afterpart of the deck, lifting the very starboard anchor on to the forecastle, and washing one of the steersmen from the wheel.

That Elise Hurt and Gresham did not share his fate was solely owing to the protection of the mast behind which they were screened. For the moment it seemed that all was over. The steamer, indeed, could no longer be so entitled, for its engines had stopped, the inundation having put the fires out; nor henceforth could the Rhineland be termed a vessel-it was a mere log, at the mercy of the winds and waves. Still it floated. Gresham's arm encircled Elise, and drew her closer to him; 'Be of good courage,' he said, 'I see the land.'

For the first time, indeed, the land had become dimly visible by the occasional light afforded by the moon when uneclipsed by the clouds that raced across her. A long black line of coast-high and rocky-showed it

self on the northern horizon. There were more people now on deck—the watch below among them-who had been driven from their quarters by the inroad of the waves. Despair and irresolution reigned among them, but not in every case.

'Load the gun,' roared the captain.

All the boats were badly damaged, some having been broken to pieces, and in any case no boat could have been lowered in such a sea. The only chance of rescue was from the land; and it was high time to tell, if haply there should be ears to listen to them, in what miserable straits they stood. The powder, in such confusion, was not easily procured, and the operation of loading was still more difficult. But, somehow or other, it was effected. Then the roar of minute gun after minute gun mixed with the artillery of the gale. Every thud of the cannon sounded like a knell to these poor wretches; till suddenly the hearts of all were lighted up by the sight of a thin light to southward. The consciousness of their peril had been at last conveyed to their fellow creatures on shore, and had been thus acknowledged! The light was that of the beacon that the men of the coastguard had lit upon the quay at Halcombe Point.