Yes, there it was yet—distant and dimly seen—but certainly there, with the bows under water, and the stern wedged up in the crevice of the sunken rocks, and the sea breaking over it as before; while all above were dark and driving clouds, and all below foaming and heaving waves. The boat made very little headway over this heavy sea. Britomarte never took her eyes from the wreck. As she gazed on all that remained of the good ship, the sun suddenly burst through a black cloud; and some shining object on the stranded stern caught the rays and lighted up the wreck, like a star of hope. “Save him! oh, God of Mercy, save him!” was the perpetual, though unuttered cry of her heart. “Spake to me, ma’am! Look at me!” said Judith Riordan, coaxingly. “Don’t be setting your eyes out on sticks, and twisting your head around like Lot’s wife, looking after that wreck. God save the craytures that were left behind, for we could do nothing for thim! Sure this boat wouldn’t howld another sowl! And the other boats were as heavy laden, and they left the ship first. And Lord knows what’s become of them, for I don’t see one of them! though troth, this fog to the landward swallows up every object, so it does. Ah, well, thin, sure I have been praying for the poor sinners left on the wreck, and saying the litany of the ‘Star of the Say’ ever since we left thim there! And I’ll aven go at it again.” And Judith opened her little book and went at it again, muttering her litanies in a half audible voice. Miss Conyers paid no sort of attention to her. She also was breathing earnest prayers for the salvation of one left to perish, while she strained her eyes for a sight of the wreck that was often hidden from her view by the rising of some great wave that threatened to carry it down, and as often loomed again through fog and spray to assure her of its continued existence. “Oh! if it can but hold together for a few days, some ship may pass and take him off! Oh, if this dreadful sea would but subside! Oh, God have mercy on me and save him!” Such was the constant burden of her thoughts and prayers. There might have been others left on the wreck with Justin Rosenthal, but she scarcely remembered their existence; she thought only of him! There was appalling danger surrounding herself and her companions in the boat, but she hardly cared for it; she suffered only for him! Now, in this awful hour of doom, all the depths of her soul had been opened up, and she knew how strongly, how ardently, how devotedly she really loved him—how entirely he possessed her life! Meanwhile, the danger to the boat and its crew was imminent. The sea ran high and heavy, threatening every instant to swallow them up. The shore, toward which they were blindly struggling, was covered with clouds and fogs that might hide, for aught they knew, more frightful perils than those from which they were trying to escape.