“Leave an old salt alone for that,” was the reply, with something of that professional pride which even peril cannot entirely subdue. “You see, Miss, the gale’s as high as ever, and the waves run as wild, yet the decks are not swept as often, or as deep, as they were. We haven’t had a surge to reach us since we changed our places. The ship heels over also more, which she would naturally do as the tide went out.” “I understand,” said Kate. “But look,” she cried, suddenly, “isn’t that morning? Surely, we cannot be mistaken this time.” She pointed to the east as she spoke, where indeed no streak of light was to be seen, as on ordinary dawns, but where a thinning away of the heavy vapors was quite perceptible. Overhead all was yet blank, and the forms of the clouds were undistinguishable; but in the eastern seaboard, the sky had a fleecy look, as when mists begin to break away on a mountain side. “You are right,” answered Captain Powell; “it is morning, God be praised.” “Didn’t I tell you so, aunt?” said Kate, cheerfully, turning to her relative. “You hear what the captain says. It is really daybreak. We shall soon be able to see the shore, and no doubt be succored.” Oh! the blessed dawn! It comes to the weary invalid, and gives new life to his veins. It comes to the watchers by the bed of death, and inspires them with momentary hope. But never comes it more welcome than to those, who, like our shipwrecked group, expect it as their only reliance. It made even Mrs. Warren feel strong, almost gay again. Gradually the darkness vanished. It was not by any sudden influx of light, but by an imperceptible growth, which could only be noticed by the changes which long intervals produced. The black curtains of gloom, which had hung like a pall close around, slowly receded, the light diffusing itself, as it were, reluctantly and warily. All eyes were turned in the direction of the land, long before it was possible to distinguish objects, at a distance, with certainty. At first, nothing but a waste of white waters, of billows racing after each other into a boundless space ahead, could be discerned. But finally, what seemed a long, low sand-bank, was made out, a short cable’s length off. It was a mere bar, elevated a few feet above the ocean, which, in many places, appeared to be actually making breaches over it. Not a house, nor even tree was distinguishable, on this barren and inhospitable shore; but here and there a few bushes, around which the drifting sand had collected, offered some slight opposition to the advancing waters.