"See, Else, that is the storm! I hear it, I see it, as if it were already let loose! Hours may yet pass, but it will come, it must come--as all signs indicate--with fearful violence. The metallic surface there below us, stirred into raging waves, will dash its foam up to this height! Woe to the ships which have not sought shelter in the harbor, perchance there to be secure against its wild fury! Woe to the lowlands down there below us! I wished to write to you about it this morning, for I saw it even yesterday, and tell you it would be better for you to leave Warnow; but you would not have gone if I had." "Never! I am too proud that you trust me, that you have told me this! And when the storm breaks loose, and I know that your precious life is exposed to danger--I will not tremble; and, if I fear, surely I will not despair. I will say all the time: 'He could not fail to do his duty, or to be the brave man whom I love; what if he thought that I were weeping and wringing my hands, while he has to command and steer as on that evening!' Do you know, my love, do you know that I loved you then? And do you know that you said to me that I had eyes like a seaman? O how well I remember every word; every look! And how happy I was that I did not have to give the compass back to you at once; I did not wish to keep it, you were to have it back again----" "Then you were more honorable than I, dear! I was determined not to give the glove back to you. You had taken it off when you looked through my telescope; it lay on the deck. I picked it up; it has accompanied me so faithfully ever since--do you see? It has been my talisman! Seamen are superstitious; I swore not to part with it till I held your hand in mine forever, instead of the glove." He kissed the little blue-gray glove before he put it back into his breast-pocket. They had again seated themselves upon the rock, caressing, whispering fond words, jesting in happy phrases, pressing heart to heart and lips to lips, forgetful of the desolate waste in the blissful paradise of their young love, forgetful of the darkness which became more dense, forgetful of the storm which was brewing in the leadlike air over the leadlike sea, like the angel of destruction brooding over a world which he finally hopes to destroy forever and to hurl back into primeval chaos. A sullen, rolling, trembling sound in the distance caused them to stop and listen; suddenly a roaring sound penetrated the air, without their noticing, even at this elevation, any motion, and this was again followed by an absolute stillness. Reinhold jumped up. "It is coming faster than I thought; we have not a moment to lose." "What are you going to do?" "Take you back."