Chapter 11

I, that shower dewy light
Through slumbering leaves, bring storms!--the tempest birth
Of memory, thought, remorse.--Be holy, Earth!
I am the solemn Night!

MRS. HEMANS.

In this instance, it is not our task to record any of the phenomena of the
ocean, but a regular, though fierce gale of wind. One of the first signs
of its severity was the disappearance of the passengers from the deck, one
shutting himself in his room after another, until none remained visible
but John Effingham and Paul Blunt. Both these gentlemen, as it appeared,
had made so many passages, and had got to be so familiar with ships, that
sea-sickness and alarms were equally impotent as respects their
constitutions and temperaments.

The poor steerage-passengers were no exception, but they stole for refuge
into their dens, heartily repentant, for the time being, at having braved
the dangers and discomforts of the sea. The gentle wife of Davis would now
willingly have returned to meet the resentment of her uncle; and as for
the bridegroom himself, as Mr. Leach, who passed through this scene of
abominations to see that all was right, described him,--"Mr. Grab would
not wring him for a dish-cloth, if he could see him in his
present pickle."

Captain Truck chuckled a good deal at this account, for he had much the
same sympathy for ordinary cases of sea-sickness, as a kitten feels in the
agony of the first mouse it has caught, and which it is its sovereign
pleasure to play with, instead of eating.

"It serves him right, Mr. Leach, for getting married; and mind you don't
fall into the same abuse of your opportunities," he said, with an air of
self-satisfaction, while comparing three or four cigars in the palm of his
hand doubtful which of the fragrant plump rolls to put into his mouth.
"Getting married, Mr. Blunt, commonly makes a man a fit subject for
nausea, and nothing is easier than to set the stomach-pump in motion in
one of your bridegrooms; is not this true as the gospel, Mr. John
Effingham?"

Mr. John Effingham made no reply,--but the young man who at the moment was
admiring his fine form, and the noble outline of his features, was
singularly struck with the bitterness, not to say anguish, of the smile
with which he bowed a cold assent. All this was lost on Captain Truck who
proceeded _con amore._

"One of the first things that I ask concerning my passengers is, is he
married? when the answer is 'no,' I set him down as a good companion in a
gale like this, or as one who can smoke, or crack a joke when a topsail is
flying out of a bolt-rope,--a companion for a category. Now, if either of
you gentlemen had a wife, she would have you under hatches to-day, lest
you