“Did I see it rolling in?” she said, at last. “Yes, and took a firm hold; but I thought it would never pass over me; I seemed to be an age beneath the water.” “It was fortunate it was no worse. I would not have taken one to a thousand pounds on your escape.” “Oh! you don’t know what a sailor I can be,” answered Kate, cheerfully. “Thank you,” she said, as Captain Powell arranged a seat for her. “We shall get along nicely till morning now. How fortunate it’s not winter, isn’t it, aunt?” Seating herself at these words, she put her arm around her aunt, and drawing the head of the latter to her shoulder, began affectionately stroking the water from her aged relative’s head. The poor creature could only answer this caress by tears, which flowed heavily down her cheeks, and by grateful looks. “Are you cold, aunt? You shake your head. Yet you must be chilly, wet through as you are.” “If you please, Miss Aylesford,” said the captain, “I think I can make my way into the cabin, and bring up some cloaks and shawls for you and your aunt.” And without waiting for a reply, he left them. In a few minutes he returned. The warmth of the dry over garments, gradually revived Mrs. Warren. But even when she regained the command of words, she could only deplore their situation, and repeat, again and again, that she knew they never would reach the shore alive. Kate, in the meanwhile, did all she could to reassure her aunt, though far from feeling confident herself. Much of the time, when they were silent, she spent in inward prayer. And surely, if ever petitions could avert evil, those of that pure-minded, brave girl ought. Slowly the night wore on. To those lonely watchers for the morning, the hours appeared almost an eternity. A hundred times they turned their longing eyes seaward, in hopes to see the horizon lighting up. Sometimes they were deceived into thinking the dawn at hand, by a temporary lifting of the clouds in the east; but the darkness soon closed in as profound as ever; and the disappointment was then all the more poignant from that momentary gleam of hope. Low and wild the clouds continued to drift past; but the rain had now slackened. On the other hand, the waves ran higher than ever, so that the captain’s fear that the ship would break up before morning, increased momentarily. Already the wreck was badly logged, as even Kate could see; and at any instant the hull might be expected to part into two pieces, under the blow of some new roller, as powerful as the one which had so nearly carried her off. “She holds together bravely,” said the captain, when several hours had passed. “The good craft is as tough as old junk. I begin to feel now that she’ll not go to pieces till next tide, at any rate. Have you noticed, Miss Aylesford, that the water is falling?” “I had not,” answered Kate. “How can you tell in the darkness and storm?”