Chapter 21

"The power of God is everywhere,
Pervades all space and time:
The power of God can still the air,
And rules in every clime;--
Then bow the heart, and bend the knee,
And worship o'er both land and sea."

Duo.

I never knew precisely the point on the coast of Ireland where we
anchored. It was somewhere between Strangford and Dundrum Bay; though the
name of the head-land which gave us a sort of protection, I did not learn.
In this part of the island, the coast trends north and south, generally;
though at the place where we anchored, its direction was nearly from
north-north-east to south-south-west,--which, in the early part of the
gale, was as close as might be the course in which the wind blew. At the
moment we brought up, the wind had hauled a little further to the
northward, giving us a better lee; but, to my great regret, Michael had
scarcely left us, when it shifted to due north-east, making a fair rake of
the channel. This left us very little of a lee--the point ahead of us
being no great matter, and we barely within it. I consulted such maps as I
had, and came to the conclusion that we were off the county Down, a part
of the kingdom that was at least civilized, and where we should be apt to
receive good treatment, in the event of being wrecked. Our fishermen told
us that they belonged to a Bally-something; but what the something was I
have forgotten, if I ever understood them. "_Told_ us," I say out of
complaisance, but "_tould_" would be the better word, as all they uttered
savoured so much of the brogue, that it was not always easy to get at
their meaning.

It was past noon when the Dawn anchored; and the wind got more to the
eastward, about half an hour afterwards. It was out of the question to
think of getting under way again, with so strong a wind, and with our
feeble crew. Had it been perfectly smooth water, and had there been
neither tide, nor air, it would have taken us half a day, at least, to
get out two bowers. It was folly, therefore, to think of it, situated as
we were. It only remained, to ride out the gale in the best manner
we could.

Nothing occurred, for several hours, except that the gale increased
sensibly in violence. Like an active disease, it was fast coming to a
crisis. Towards sunset, however, a little incident took place, that gave
me great uneasiness of itself, though I had forebodings of evil from the
commencement of that tempest. Two sail appeared in sight, to windward,
being quite near us, close in with the Irish coast before either was
observed on board the Dawn. The leading vessel of the two was a
man-of-war cutter, running nearly before it, under a close-reefed
square-sail,--canvass so low that it might easily