A confused sound of praying filled the room. And above it shrilled the terror of the women. For an appreciable space of time the spasm lasted. Then, slowly, as though by the gradual withdrawing of a lever, the vehemence of the attack abated. The muddy grey bars at the windows became lighter, and some of the more courageous of the negroes peered out. The wharf could be seen dimly extending under the low floor of spume and mist. The breakers were higher than at any previous time, but instead of smashing in upon the shore, they raced straight up the river and paralleled the city. As each one swung by it went clean over the wharf, obliterating it for the duration of its passage. Suddenly from the direction of the lower harbor a tremendous mass appeared, showing first only a vast distorted stain against the grey fabric of the mist. Then a gigantic wave took it, and drove it into fuller view. “Great Gawd A’mighty!” some one whispered. “It’s dat big lumbuh schooner bruck loose in de harbor.” The wave hunched its mighty shoulders under the vessel and swung it up--up, for an interminable moment. The soaring bowsprit lifted until it was lost in mist. Tons of water gushed from the steep incline of the deck, and poured over the smooth, black wall of the side, as it reared half out of the sea. Then the wave swept aft, and the bow descended in a swift, deadly plunge. A crashing of timbers followed that could be heard clearly above the roaring of the storm. The hull had fallen directly across the middle of the wharf. There was one cataclysmic moment when the whole view seemed to disintegrate. The huge timbers of the wharf up-ended, and were washed out like straws. The schooner rolled half over, and her three masts crashed down with their rigging. The shock burst the lashings of the vessel’s deck load, and as the hull heeled, an avalanche of heavy timbers took the water. The ruin was utter. Heavy and obliterating, the mist closed down again. Bess turned from the window holding the sleeping infant in her arms, raised her eyes and looked full at Porgy. With an expression of awe in his face, the cripple reached out a timid hand and touched the baby’s cheek. § The windows of the great ball-room were open to the sky, and beyond them, a busy breeze was blowing across its washed and polished expanse, gathering cloud-remnants into little heaps, and sweeping them in tumbling haste out over the threshold of the sea. Most of the refugees had returned to their rooms, where sounds of busy salvaging could be heard. Porgy’s voice arose jubilantly announcing that the goat had been discovered, marooned upon the cook-stove; and that Peter’s old horse had belied his whinny, and was none the worse for a thorough wetting. Serena Robbins paused before Bess, who was gathering her things preparatory to leaving the room, placed her hands upon her hips, and looked down upon her.