Silent Struggles. Ann S. Stephens

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      He broke off with this exclamation, and drew his tall figure upright, pointing towards the sea with a gesture of almost solemn exultation.

      "Is that a ship, I say, or a bleak skeleton of the thing I have been waiting for?"

      "Upon my life—upon my soul, ten thousand pardons—but I think it really is a ship, or some evil spirit has pencilled the skeleton of his devil's craft in the clouds."

      "Ha!" ejaculated the old man with a start, "see, see!"

      The strange being might well cry out with astonishment. As he looked the great embankment of clouds was torn asunder, and a burst of fire kindled up its edges till it hung like streamers and tatters of flame around a vessel of considerable size, which was, for the instant, lifted out of the cloud into full view. The young man, whose sight was clear, could even detect persons grouped upon the deck.

      "It is a signal gun. She wants a pilot, or is in distress," he said, eagerly. "Ha! she blazes out once more—they are casting her anchor. Heavens, how she plunges! There—there, the cloud swallows her again!"

      The old man had fallen upon his knees, allowing his long, gray cloak to sweep away with the wind. He locked both hands over his face, and seemed to be offering up either thanksgiving or entreaties to heaven; for his voice, sharp and piercing, penetrated the storm too impetuously for the words to be distinguished.

      The young man stood a moment, reluctant to disturb him. That thin form was completely exposed to the storm, and he could not refrain from an attempt to rescue the old man's cloak from the wind, and gather it about him. Besides, the grass was completely saturated on which he knelt, and to remain upon it longer might bring a death chill.

      "Sir, forgive me, but this is a dangerous place for prayer. The earth is deluged where you kneel."

      The old man struggled to his feet, and looked down upon the crushed grass with humiliation and wonder.

      "Kneel! did I in truth kneel?" he said, anxiously, like one who excuses himself from a grave crime; "and here, in the open day? I beseech you, remember, my young friend, that it was the surprise of yon ship and the tempest which cast me into that unseemly position. When a servant of God prays, it should be standing upright, face to face with the Being after whose image he was made."

      "You were, indeed greatly overcome," answered the youth, arranging the folds of the old man's cloak. "The ship yonder must contain some dear friend, that its appearance should move you so deeply."

      "Some dear friend! Samuel Parris has no friends to expect from the mother-land now. It is many years since he and all that is left of his kin took root in the New World."

      "And yet you were looking for the ship so anxiously?"

      "Aye, young man. I was looking for something which was to come up from the east through yon gate of clouds; but whether it was a weather-worn vessel or an archangel sent on some special mission, was not told me."

      "And you come hither expecting nothing?"

      "Expecting every thing, for Jehovah is everywhere," answered the old man, solemnly.

      The youth was greatly impressed, his eye brightened.

      "I only wish it were in my power to have expectations grounded on so much faith," he said. "Now I come forth like a storm-bird, because a strife of wind and water fills me with some grand expectation never realized, but which seems always on the verge of fulfilment. You may perchance smile, but it seems to me as if I had been months and years watching for that very craft yonder, as if my own fate were anchored with it in the storm. Nay, more, the guns, as they boomed over these waves, seemed challenging me to meet some new destiny, and grapple with it to the end, as I will—as I will!"

      The young man stretched his arm towards the shadowy vessel, and his slight, almost boyish form swelled with excitement, while the dark brown eyes, usually bright and playful as a child's, darkened and grew larger with the sudden excitement that had come upon him.

      The minister grasped his outstretched arm, and fixed a steady gaze on his face.

      "And you also have been on the watch. Like me, you have come blindfold through the storm, searching into the future for that ghostly ship, where it spreads its shrouds of dull mist, and rocks upon the moaning sea. Has the spirit of prophecy touched your young life also, that you say these things with a shortened breath and white cheek, like one terrified or inspired?"

      "I know not," said the young man; "but, like you, I have expected that visit long. In storm and darkness as it comes now have I seen it."

      "How—where?" cried the old man, breathlessly.

      "In my dreams or reveries, I know not which, it has floated often, shrouded as it is now, impalpable, a phantom of spars and fog."

      "And you have seen this?"

      "No, not with my eyes; it comes across my life like a ghost whose presence fills you with awe, but answers to no sense."

      "Like a ghost which you would fain flee from and cannot. Is it thus the spirit deals with you also?"

      "Nay, I would not flee, it arouses my courage. Even now my heart leaps toward yon vessel as if some precious thing lay in its hold which no one but myself may dare to claim."

      "This is strange—marvellously strange," said the minister, forgetting himself in the enthusiasm of the young man.

      "What is strange?"

      "That we two should meet here for the first time in our lives, haunted by the same dreams, waiting together for the same revelation. Heaven forbid that this should prove a device of the evil one urging us on to perdition. I trust that you have not come forth without fasting and prayer, my young brother, for of a verity there is great need of both in these latter days."

      The youth smiled, for solemn thoughts made but brief impressions on him, and the idea of quenching any one of his bright fancies by fasting or prayer amused him exceedingly, notwithstanding the earnestness of the old man's words.

      The minister did not notice this gleam of levity, which would have shocked him to the soul, for his eyes were fascinated by the strange vessel, and he could not force them to look steadily on any other object.

      While the two men stood together the wind had shifted, carrying off the rain. Through the gray mists left behind came a crimson glow from the sun, which was that moment sinking behind the heights and shooting its golden lances after the storm as it rolled slowly back upon the bosom of the ocean.

      "It is gone," said the old man, mournfully, as the heavy clouds settled back upon the vessel; "the vapors have swallowed it up as usual. Let us descend the hill, brother."

      "Not yet—not yet!" cried the youth. "See! the storm is breaking away, the sunset has drawn it seaward. Look, look how beautifully the vessel pencils itself against that break of blue in the sky."

      The old man turned again, and clasping his hands, murmured, "It is neither phantom nor mist, but a ship of sturdy English oak, with masts and spars standing. Hush!—young man, see you nothing upon the deck?"

      "Yes, surely, a group of persons standing together."

      "No, СКАЧАТЬ