so an hour or two went by; up above the dawn broke and the daylight came. van rensselaer was still howling, though so weak that he could scarcely stagger, when the cabin door was flung wide again, and the captain, white, and with set lips, came in. "it is all over, sir," he said. "we are lost."

the owner's eyes were glaring like a maniac's. "what do you mean?" he shrieked.

"come up and see," was the reply, and van rensselaer rushed blindly to the deck. clinging to the companionway door, he stared about him, dazed at first, and realizing nothing but his own horror. a mad chaos was about him; the yacht was like a bubble tossed about by the gigantic seas; the waves were like mountains around her. down into a great valley she sank, down—down—plunging,[133] and van rensselaer gasped in fear; and then a great rolling mountain came sweeping down over her, and up she rose—higher and higher—to the very crest, and sped along with the speed of an express train, the mad waters seething and hissing and roaring and thundering around her.

from the mountain top van rensselaer gazed about him—and his cries died in his throat. not half a mile away, right upon them, as it looked, was the shore—the wild, lonely, horrible shore—the shore with the jagged rocks and the merciless iron cliffs—and destruction, imminent and inevitable!

the sight took the last atom of the soul out of van rensselaer. he whimpered, he wailed, he would have fallen down upon the deck and grovelled but that instinct made him cling to his support. to stand there alive and safe, and be swept thus to death, foot by foot! to be helpless in the grip of these grim, relentless forces; it was too much, it was too much! it made him[134] hysterical, it turned him into a beast, into a fool. he screamed, he laughed, he sobbed; but the words he spoke no longer had meaning.

his eyes were fixed upon the black rocks before them; as they came nearer he heard the sounds made by the mountains of water hurled against them,—a sound far-reaching, all-pervading, elemental, cosmic. only once he turned elsewhere, to see the crew flinging out their anchors in a last vain hope; to see the yacht whirl round as they caught, to see the waves lift her up, and sweep her on, and snap the cables like so many threads.

then again he perceived that the crew was trying to get out one of the boats; and he bounded to the spot, and waited. he did not help, he clung to the davits. but the instant the boat touched the water, he struck one of the men out of the way and leaped in. several followed, and there was a cry, "enough!" and they pushed off, and were whirled away from the yacht. an instant later a breaking wave struck[135] them a glancing blow, and over they went.

van rensselaer came to the surface, strangling and gasping, still in his frenzy of fear. the boat was near, and he struck out and caught it. there was another man close to him, a sailor, stretching out his hands to him; as the waves tossed them about he touched van rensselaer's foot and gripped it. the other kicked at him madly, in frantic rage—kicked him off, and kicked him down. so he clung alone to the storm-tossed life-boat.

it was a fearful struggle: the waves choked him, stunned him, half drowned him; but he hung like mad, and fought to keep his head above the water, while the sea was sweeping him nearer and nearer to the iron shore. he was staring at it wildly, a monstrous enemy with open mouth, and huge jagged teeth that gaped at him. they were looming high above him now; the roaring of the breakers swelled in his ears, in his soul, dazing him, appalling him, poor[136] shivering mite of life that he was. and then suddenly he felt himself sinking—downward, deep down in a valley; he felt himself tossed and rocked, swaying as if in a tree-top; and then upwards he started—higher—higher—right to the boiling crest, the hovering, poising crest. he screamed, he writhed, it was like some hideous nightmare, terrifying to the soul. but the wave seized him—he felt it seize him; and it started—slowly—then faster, then faster yet—with the speed of a cannon ball—and hurled him, smote him, upon the jagged rocks. it battered his face, it broke his limbs, it crushed his skull like an egg-shell; and so the last spark of his hungry life went out of him.