Chapter 18

--"Every day, some sailor's wife,
The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,
Have just our theme of woe."--_Tempest._

"We are safe!" said Wilder, who had stood, amid the violence of the
struggle, with his person firmly braced against a mast, steadily watching
the manner of their escape. "Thus far, at least, are we safe; for which
may Heaven alone be praised, since no art of mine could avail us a
feather."

The females had buried their faces in the folds of the vestments and
clothes on which they were sitting; nor did even the governess raise her
countenance until twice assured by her companion that the imminency of the
risk was past. Another minute went by, during which Mrs Wyllys and
Gertrude were rendering their thanksgivings, in a manner and in words less
equivocal than the expression which had just broken from the lips of the
young seaman. When this grateful duty was performed, they stood erect, as
if emboldened, by the offering, to look their situation more steadily in
the face.

On every side lay the seemingly illimitable waste of waters. To them,
their small and frail tenement was the world. So long as the ship, sinking
and dangerous as she was, remained beneath them, there had appeared to be
a barrier between their existence and the ocean. But one minute had
deprived them of even this failing support, and they now found themselves
cast upon the sea in a vessel that might be likened to one of the bubbles
of the element. Gertrude felt, at that instant, as though she would have
given half her hopes in life for the mere sight of that vast and nearly
untenanted Continent which stretched for so many thousands of miles along
the west, and kept the world of waters to their limits.

But the rush of emotions that so properly belonged to their forlorn
condition soon subsided, and their thoughts returned to the study of the
means necessary to their further safety. Wilder had, however anticipated
these feelings; and, even before Mrs Wyllys and Gertrude had recovered
their recollections, he was occupied, aided by the ready hands of the
terrified but loquacious Cassandra, in arranging the contents of the boat
in such a manner as would enable her to move through the element with the
least possible resistance.

"With a well-trimmed ship, and a fair breeze," cried our adventurer,
cheerfully, so soon as his little job was ended, "we may yet hope to reach
the land in one day and another night. I have seen the hour when, in this
good launch, I would not have hesitated to run the length of the American
coast, provided"--

"You have forgotten your provided," said Gertrude observing that he
hesitated, probably from a reluctance to