The String of Pearls (1850), p. 10

tinctly, and each moment the wind grew more furious and fierce, and I saw in the distance a ship—it was battling with the waves, which at one moment lifted it mountains high, and at another plunged it far down into such an abyss, that not a vestige of it could be seen but the topmost spars of the tall mast. And still the storm increased each moment in its fury, and ever and anon there came a strange sullen sound across the waters, and I saw a flash of fire, and knew that those in the ill-fated vessel were thus endeavouring to attract attention and some friendly aid. Rather, from the first to the last I knew that Mark Ingestrie was there—my heart told me so: I was certain he was there, and I was helpless—utterly helpless, utterly and entirely unable to lend the slightest aid. I could only gaze upon what was going forward as a silent and terrified spectator of the scene. And at last I heard a cry come over the deep—a strange, loud, wailing cry—which proclaimed to me the fate of the Vessel. I saw its mass shiver for a moment in the blackened air, and then all was still for a few seconds, until there arose a strange, wild shriek, that I knew was the despairing cry of those who sank, never to rise again, in that vessel. Oh! that was a frightful sound—it was a sound to linger on the ears, and haunt the memory of sleep — it was a sound never to be forgotten when once heard, but such as might again and again be remembered with horror and affright."
"And all this was in your dream?"
"It was, father, it was."
"And you were helpless?"
"I was—utterly and entirely helpless."
"It was very sad."
"It was, as you shall hear. The ship went down, and that cry that I had heard was the last despairing one given by those who clung to the wreck with scarce a hope, and yet because it was their only refuge, for where else had they to look for the smallest ray of consolation? where else, save in the surging waters, were they to turn for safety? Nowhere! all was lost! all was despair! I tried to scream—I tried to cry aloud to Heaven to have mercy upon those brave and gallant souls who had trusted their dearest possession—life itself—to the mercy of the deep; and while I so tried to render so inefficient succour, I saw a small speck in the sea and my straining eyes perceived that it was a man floating and clinging to a piece of the wreck, and I knew it was Mark Ingestrie."
"But, my dear, surely you are not annoyed at a dream?"
"It saddened me. I stretched out my arms to save him—I heard him pronounce my name, and call upon me for help. 'Twas all in vain ; he battled with the waves as long as human nature could battle with them. He could do no more, and I saw him disappear before my anxious eyes."
"Don't say you saw him, my dear, say you fancy you saw him."
"It was such a fancy as I shall not lose the remembrance of for many a day."
"Well, well, after all, my dear, it's only a dream; and it seems to me, without at all adverting to anything that should give you pain as regards Mark Ingestrie that you made a very foolish bargain; for only consider how many difficulties might arise m the way of his keeping faith with you. You know I have your happiness so much at heart that, if Mark had been a worthy man and an industrious one I should not have opposed myself to your union; but, believe me, my dear Johanna,
that a young man with great facilities for spending money, and none whatever for earning any, is just about the worst husband you could choose, and such a man
was Mark Ingestrie. But come, we will say nothing of this to your mother: let the secret, it we may call it such, rest with me and if you can inform me in what
capacity and in what vessel he left England, I will not carry my prejudice so far against him as to hesitate about making what inquiry I can concerning his fate."
"I know nothing more, father; we parted, and never met again."
"Well, well ! dry your eves, Johanna, and, as I go to Alderman Judd's, I'll think over the matter, which, after all, may not be so bad as you think. The lad is a good-enough looking lad, and has, I believe, a good ability, if he would put it to some useful purpose; but if he goes scampering about the world in an un