"Probably enough; but the coast of Suffolk and the Irish Channel will be
the worst. It will be child's play here in comparison." A strange booming noise came across the sea at this moment, and the
colonel cried out--

"Is that a gun, or is it thunder?" "Thunder!" said Ingestrie; "hark! there it is again! There is a storm
some forty or fifty miles off. It's right away in the German Ocean, most
likely; but only look now even, dark as it is getting, how the sea is
rising, and what an odd seething condition it is getting into." They all stood on the balcony and looked out towards the sea. The
surface of it was to the eye only undulating quite gently, and yet,
strange to say, it was rapidly covering with white foam, and that from
no perceptible cause, for as yet the wind was a mere trifle. "How is that?" said Johanna. "The sea is not very rough, and yet it is
all white." "It is the worst sign of bad weather," said Ingestrie. "The commotion
has begun below the surface in some mysterious way, and that white foam
which you see each moment rapidly increasing is cast up; but soon the
whole surface will begin to heave, and then you will find out what a
storm is." "We may hear it," said the colonel; "but if this darkness continues, I
doubt very much if we shall be able to bring any other of our senses
into requisition upon the occasion." "Hush!" said Tobias, "what is that?" He held up his hand as he spoke, and as they were then all profoundly
still, a strange, low, wailing sound came over the water. "What can it be?" said Johanna. "Only the gale," smiled Ingestrie. "It's coming, now. That's the sigh of
the wind over the water. You will soon hear it, I can tell you. Now,
only notice how still everything is. There, look how that bird flies in
a terrified manner close to the ground. It knows that the gale is
coming. The sound you heard with intense listening, you will be able now
to hear without listening at all. It will force itself upon your notice. Hilloa! There it comes! Look at the sea!" A few miles out from the shore the sea seemed to rise like a wall of
water, tipped with a ridge of foam, and then down it came with such a
splash and a roar, that it was plainly heard on the shore, and then, in
a moment or two, the impulse so given communicated itself to the whole
of the sea, and it was fearfully agitated. With a roar and a shriek, the
gale swept on, and from that moment conversation was almost out of the
question. The ladies of the party were glad to get into the house again, and in a
little time the colonel and Ingestrie found it anything but comfortable
to remain in the balcony; and as the night had fairly set in, they
likewise retreated. The gale lasted the whole of the evening, and when our friends retired
to rest it seemed to be rather increasing than otherwise. It was still
dark when Ingestrie was awakened from his sleep by a knocking at the
door of his room. "Hilloa!" he said; "who's there?" "It is I," said Colonel Jeffrey. "Will you get up, Mr. Ingestrie? It is
nearly morning, and they say a ship is going down about a couple of
miles off the coast." "I'm coming!" cried Ingestrie, as he sprang out of bed and dressed
himself with amazing rapidity. "If it does go down, it will not be the
only one that finds the bottom of the Channel to-night." When he reached the lower part of the house, he found the colonel and
Ben waiting for him. "This has been an awful night," said the colonel. "Well, I don't know," said Ingestrie; "for I have been fast asleep." "Asleep!" cried Ben; "I couldn't get a wink of sleep but once, and then
I dreamt I was a mermaid. Why, what with the howling of the wind, which
is a great deal worse than our lioness when she wants her knuckle of
beef, and the washing of the water, I couldn't rest at all." "The voice of the wind," said Ingestrie, "always has the effect of
sending me fast asleep. But you said something of a ship in distress,
did you not?" "Yes. They say that in the offing there is a large ship, and that she is
evidently water-logged, and must go down, unless she drives ashore." "The deuce she must! Let us run down to the beach at once, and see what
we can do." With this, they all three left the house, and made the best of their way
to the beach along the execrable shingle of the Brighton coast. It was
far from being an easy task to proceed, for the wind was terrific, and
now and then, when they did reach the beach, there came a sea washing
in, that drenched them with spray. A crowd of people had collected upon the coast; some were holding up
lanterns on the end of poles, and many were prepared with ropes to cast
to the aid of any of the crew of the vessel that might swim to the
shore. "There she is," said Ingestrie; "I see her! It's a small craft, and she
is a wreck already." "She must go down, then?" said the colonel. "I don't know. She is drifting in shore, but evidently quite
unmanageable. She is a sheer hulk. If they had the least control over
her, they could run her in in ten minutes on to the beach; but she is
going about like a log." "Then, she may go down in deep water yet?" "In truth, she may." "Here are plenty of boats?" "Boats? My dear friend, there never was a boat yet that could live in
such a sea as this. It is out of the question. You find no one makes the
attempt, and I am quite sure that among the hardy fishermen of this
place, there are many would do so if it were at all practicable; but it
is most certain that death in the surf would be the result." "I fear it would, indeed." "There she goes!" cried a voice. "Eh?" said Ben, turning round and round, "I don't see anybody in the
female line." "The ship!" cried Ingestrie. "They mean the ship. But she is not gone
yet. There she is, still. Do you see her, colonel, like a tub upon the
water? There, right away, by yon light-coloured cloud." "I do--I do!" The ship had not gone down. She had only settled for a moment or two in
the trough of the sea; and it was now quite evident that the wreck was
rapidly drifting towards the shore, so that there was an expectation
that it might strike in shallow water, and so give the crew a chance of
escape from death. CHAPTER CLXX. MARK INGESTRIE RESCUES A SHIPWRECKED MAN. The scene now upon the beach at Brighton was one of the most exciting
that can well be imagined. No one who has not stood upon a beach under
such circumstances, and seen a brave ship battling with the waters, can
have any real idea of it. Language is too weak to paint the feelings of such a conjunction of
circumstances. It is so hopeless a thing to stand upon the shore, and
listen to the wind roaring in its fury, and to see the waves dashing in
mad gyrations hither and thither, while a few frail and creaking timbers
only keep some poor mortals from sinking into the sea, which, like a
seething cauldron, seems ready to devour them, that it is enough to
unman the stoutest heart.