“Flung from the rock, on ocean’s foam, to sail
    Where’er the surge may sweep, the tempest’s breath prevail.”

The wind suddenly veered round and blew off shore quite fresh.  The vessel stood well off during the night, and the Captain hoped to make the harbour sometime the next morning, but toward daylight a fog began to settle down fast and thick.  Captain Godfrey fully realized the perilous position of all on board, but having been early trained in seamanship, he had full confidence in his ability to manage the sloop.

In the morning land could not be seen.  The fog continued for three days, during which time (to use the Captain’s words) “the situation was dismal enough, and every moment I was expecting to see the craft drawn on the rocks and all on board perish.”  The fourth day the fog was less dense, and those on board could see for some distance, but the sun was invisible, and the war of the elements was raging with increasing fury.  In the afternoon the wind had shifted to north-west and increased to a partial gale.  The sloop was running under a bit of mainsail; it seemed at times as if the following seas would founder the little vessel as they towered over the low rail.  Nothing was to be seen but the wide expanse of water.  Not even a solitary gull.  The Captain remarked to his wife, “It is a curious fact that, excepting the petrels, sea birds keep near to the land in bad weather.”  Captain Godfrey feared the night, and as it came on the wind grew in strength.  A terrible sea was running, and all were fastened below excepting Paul and the Captain.  The Indian would not leave the deck, although more than once he was nearly washed overboard.  At length darkness covered the face of the ocean, and the wind howled in all its fury.  The seas were like mountains, tossing the sloop about like a cork.  Mrs. Godfrey would remain below no longer.  She told her children, who were tumbling like nine-pins about the cabin floor, not to cry, as she would soon return to them.  As she put her head out of the companion way, the Captain ordered her back.  She said, “Where is Paul?” Her husband answered, “I have called to him time and time again to get below.”  She called to Paul, who was holding fast to the anchor chain with his legs stuck under the windlass.  He did not answer.  She started to creep forward.  Her husband could not see her.  At this moment the sloop took a dreadful plunge.  A heavy sea swept over her from stern to bow, completely submerging her.  The Captain, who had taken the precaution to lash himself to the deck, in a half-drowned state, held steadily to the tiller.  As soon as possible he called to his wife, but no answer came back.  He called to Paul, and he too was silent.  Was she lost?  Had she, in whom all his hopes were placed, been carried into the sea and for ever lost to him on earth?  These thoughts bewildered him while he was trying to steer his vessel.  He dare not leave the helm to look after his wife and children.