If, however, she were really tacking, our situation would indeed be critical. A very few moments put a period to our suspense by confirming Arthur's opinion, and our worst fears; the stranger had altered her course, her yards were braced round, and she was standing further out to sea. Still, however, there would have been a possibility of reaching her, but for the failure of light, for she had not so far changed her course, but that she would have to pass a point, which we could probably gain before her. But now, it was with difficulty, and only by means of the cloud of canvass she carried, that we could distinguish her through the momently deepening gloom; and with sinking hearts we relinquished the last hopes connected with her. Soon she entirely vanished from our sight, and when we gazed anxiously around the narrow horizon that now bounded our vision, sky and water alone met our view. CHAPTER FOUR. AT SEA. A NIGHT OF GLOOM--MORTON'S NARRATIVE--VISIONARY TERRORS--AN ALARMING DISCOVERY. "O'er the deep! o'er the deep! Where the whale, and the shark, and the sword-fish sleep." Even in open day, the distance of a few miles would be sufficient to sink the low shores of the island; and now that night had so suddenly overtaken us, it might be quite near, without our being able to distinguish it. We were even uncertain, and divided in opinion, as to the direction in which it lay--so completely were we bewildered. The night was one of deep and utter gloom. There was no moon; and not a single star shed its feeble light over the wilderness of agitated waters, upon which our little boat was tossing. Heavy, low-hanging clouds, covered the sky; but soon, even these could no longer be distinguished; a cold, damp mist, dense, and almost palpable to the touch, crept over the ocean, and enveloped us so closely, that it was impossible to see clearly from one end of the yawl to the other. The wind, however, instead of freshening, as we had feared, died gradually away. For this, we had reason to be thankful; for though our situation that night seemed dismal enough, yet how much more fearful would it have been, if the rage of the elements, and danger of immediate destruction, had been added to the other circumstances of terror by which we were surrounded? As it was, however, the sea having gone down, we supposed ourselves to be in no great or pressing peril. Though miserably uncomfortable, and somewhat agitated and anxious, we yet confidently expected that the light of morning would show us the land again.