My friend insisted on going along with them, and when he was about to step into the boat he handed me his keys; then shaking me heartily by the hand, gave me to understand what he dared not speak--nor, indeed, could I have heard--without exhibiting a woman’s weakness. As it was, we were not far from it--a word would have unmanned us. The boat bounded away from the harbour over the high surges, shaping her course well for her object; and considering that she had to beat to windward, she made wonderful progress: however, it was four o’clock ere she got within half a mile of the vessel. The tempest was now increasing frightfully--the worn out transports seemed as if they were giving up the ghost to the overwhelming storm--none carried more canvass than topsails close reefed, and the opinion of every one on the beach was, that all would be wrecked if the weather did not change. It was getting dark: I saw the boat labouring amidst the hills of foaming water, and the ship was within hail of her. It darkened:--we could see no more of either boat or ships; and could only ascertain what direction they were in by the flashes of the occasional guns of distress which some of them fired. It was a sickening sight. I knew not what to do:--I _could_ do nothing--except, indeed, offer up my prayers for the safety of the poor souls that were hurling over the frightful abyss of horrors.[14] Guns were repeated and repeated; but no assistance could those on shore render the ships. I was bewildered;--I wandered home--back again--lay down--arose restless--watched the daylight; and then was the horrid reality:--the ship had gone to pieces; so had the boat--my dear friend, and all his dream of happiness, gone! Not a being either in the ship or boat was saved, and the bodies of Allemar and Ellen were washed on shore about a mile below St. Jean de Luz. This catastrophe has since caused me many painful reflections. The manner in which the lovers met and died in the tempest, was before my eyes night and day for a long time after it happened: indulging in these melancholy thoughts, I drew the following imaginative picture of their fate:-- Along by the sea-cliff as Allemar hied, To wear the sad moments away, With sorrow he view’d the increase of the tide, Look’d o’er the dark breast of the ocean, and sigh’d “My Ellen--ah! why dost thou stay?” Three sunsetting hours did he visit the shore, Thrice viewed the slow ebb of the tide; For the ship was expected full three days before, To crown all his hopes, and his Ellen restore-- His gentle--his beautiful bride. The twilight was rapidly lessening his view, Black hillocks uprose on the main; Now stronger and stronger the whistling wind blew, And clouds through the heavens as rapidly flew As thoughts across Allemar’s brain.