"
"She lies on a mattress there, behind that group,"--nodding in the
implied direction; "and it would be well, if you could lie beside her
and get an hour's rest."
"Me? I couldn't sleep. I shall come back to you,--may I?" And she was
gone.
Mr. Raleigh still sat in the position in which she had left him, when, a
half-hour afterward, she returned.
"Where is your cloak?" he asked, rising to receive her.
"I spread it over Ursule, she was so chilly."
"You will not take cold?"
"I? I am on fire myself."
"Ah, I see; you have the Saturnalian spirit in you."
"It is like the Revolution, the French, is it not?--drifting on before
the wind of Fate, this ship full of fire and all red-hot raging
turbulence. Just look up the long sparkling length of these white, full
shrouds, swelling and curving like proud swans, in the gale,--and then
imagine the devouring monster below in his den!"
"_Don't_ imagine it. Be quiet and sit beside me. Half the night is
gone."
"I remember reading of some pirates once, who, driving forward to
destruction on fearful breakers, drank and sang and died madly. I wish
the whole ship's company would burst out in one mighty chorus now, or
that we might rush together with tumultuous impulse and dance,--dance
wildly into death and daylight.
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