As
it is, we must submit. We are certainly in a category, and be d---d
to it!"
It was one of those wild-looking sunsets that are so frequent in the
autumn, in which appearances are worse, perhaps, than the reality. The
ships were now so near the Chops of the Channel that no land was visible,
and the entire horizon presented that chill and wintry aspect that belongs
to gloomy and driving clouds, to which streaks of dull light serve more to
give an appearance of infinite space than any of the relief of brightness.
It was a dreary night-fall to a landsman's eye; though they who better
understood the signs of the heavens, as they are exhibited on the ocean,
saw little more than the promise of obscurity, and the usual hazards of
darkness in a much-frequented sea,
"This will be a dirty night," observed John Effingham, "and we may have
occasion to bring in some of the flaunting vanity of the ship, ere another
morning returns."
"The vessel appears to be in good hands," returned Mr. Effingham: "I have
watched them narrowly; for, I know not why, I have felt more anxiety on
the occasion of this passage than on any of the nine I have already made."
As he spoke, the tender father unconsciously bent his eyes on Eve, who
leaned affectionately on his arm, steadying her light form against the
pitching of the vessel.
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