1828.] True Story of a Storm at Sea. 137 
sion with any distinctness, would be to prove that it was nol a scene of 
confusion ; but the many who have witnessed the same kind of scene by 
daylight may gain some notion of this, by fancying every particular of 
the confusion “ worse confounded,” and the whole rendered ten times 
more perplexing and indescribable, by the absence of light, and the conse- 
quent necessity of every passenger to undergo, three or four times over, 
an examination as to his permission d’embarquer, his charges for ladder- 
men, commissionnaires, &c. - 
Tired of waiting in the pouring rain to watch the progress of what 
seemed to make no progress at all, I had just passed through my ordeal, 
and taken my seat quietly in the cabin, to see what was going forward 
there, when I heard an increased shouting over-head, and a splashing in 
the water, as if some one had fallen in; and, on going to ascertain the 
cause, I found that two French sailors had fallen over the side of the 
quay, and were struggling for their lives in the deep water ; while the 
scene connected with the embarking of the remaining passengers seemed 
to be not at all affected by this accident—the douanniers gabbling forth 
their demands for the pass-tickets; the commissionnaires trying to extract 
their ten-sous-pieces twice over, in virtue of the darkness ; and the 
English sailors sitting on the sides of their vessel till it came to their 
turn to work, as if nothing extraordinary had happened: and, a few 
minutes afterwards, on a lady asking one of the latter (who had come 
and seated himself quietly on the stairs of the cabin, out of the rain) 
what was the matter above, and whether any body had fallen into the 
water? he said “ No, it was only two Frenchman !’”” 
As a proof that the true sang froid is not confined to us, of the north, 
it may be worth mentioning, that, a few minutes after the above-named 
accident had happened, one of the two men who had been the subject 
of it came down into the cabin, dripping wet as he was, and peered 
about among the passengers till he found out one who, he said, had not 
paid him his ten-sous-piece ; and, after getting his claim satisfied, he 
walked away, and stood on the side of the quay till the vessel left it, as 
if nothing particular had happened. 
We had scarcely left the port before it was easy to see that the prospect 
before us was any thing rather than favourable ; and, in an hour’s time, 
the wind had increased to a hurricane, and the rain fell in torrents. I 
believe I was the first among the passengers to discover the situation 
we were in,—probably in virtue of my before-named presentiment on the 
subject ; for it was an hour after this before any symptoms of fear were 
shewn, even among the females. There was an almost dead silence pre- 
served in the cabin ; probably from a natural disinclination to hear our 
own insignificant voices mingle with any of the really awful and impres- 
sive sounds of external nature: the most determined of Parisian prat- 
tlers will scarcely be found venting his gay nothings beneath the solemn 
aisles of a wind-swept fir-grove, or beside the ever-sounding ocean. But 
till there was no appearance of actual fear. There was an uneasy, 
anxious look on the countenances of all present ; as if they felt an indis- 
notion that there was something wrong; but they did not seem 
able of trusting themselves to think whal it was. That they were 
y in the open sea at midnight, in a storm, was a thing not be 
At of. They were, however, very soon to learn that this was 
noting more than the truth. It is curious to observe the manner in 
vhich we are affected by slight circumstances, when great ones seem too 
M.M. New Series.—Vou. VI. No. 32. T 
