“Thou talkest like a foolish quean that has been frightened by the fluttering of her own poultry.  The lake was never more calm, or the bark in greater safety.”

“Dost see yonder bright light; here, over the tower of thy Vevey church?”

“Ay, ’tis a gallant star! and a fair sign for the mariner.”

“Fool, ’tis a hot flame in Roger de Blonay’s beacon.  They begin to see that we are in danger on the shore, and they cast out their signals to give us notice to be active.  They think us be-stirring ourselves like stout men, and those used to the water, while, in truth, we are as undisturbed as if the bark were a rock that might laugh at the Leman and its waves.  The man is benumbed,” continued Maso, turning away towards the anxious listeners; “he will not see that which is getting to be but too plain to all the others in his vessel.”

Another idle and general laugh from the forecastle came to contradict this opinion of Maso’s, and to prove how easy it is for the ignorant to exist in security, even on the brink of destruction.  This was the moment, when nature gave the first of those signals that were “intelligible to vulgar capacities.  The whole vault of the heavens was now veiled, with the exception of the spot so often named, which lay nearly above the brawling torrents of the Rhone.  This fiery opening resembled a window admitting of fearful glimpses into the dreadful preparations that were making up among the higher peaks of the Alps.  A flash of red quivering light was emitted, and a distant, rumbling rush, that was not thunder but rather resembled the wheelings of a thousand squadrons into line, followed the flash.  The forecastle was deserted to a man, and the hillock of freight was again darkly seen peopled with crouching human forms.  Just then the bark which had so long lain in a state of complete rest slowly and heavily raised its bows, as if laboring under its great and unusual burthen, while a sluggish swell passed beneath its entire length, lifting the whole mass, foot by foot, and passing away by the stern, to cast itself on the shores of Vaud.

“’Tis madness to waste the precious moments longer!” said Maso hurriedly, on whom this plain and intelligent hint was not lost.  “Signori, we must be bold and prompt, or we shall be overtaken by the tempest unprepared.  I speak not for myself, since, by the aid of this faithful dog, and favored by my own arms, I have always the shore for a hope.  But there is one in the bark I would wish to save, even at some hazard to myself.  Baptiste is unnerved by fear, and we must act for our selves or perish!”

“What wouldest thou?” demanded the Signor Grimaldi; “he that can proclaim the danger should have some expedient to divert it?”

“More timely exertion would have given us the resource of ordinary means; but, like those who die in their sins, we have foolishly wasted most precious minutes.  We must lighten the bark, though it cost the whole of her freight.”