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1828.] True Story of a Storm at Sea. 143 
where she was lying—called loudly and impatiently on the “ steward” 
—and, when he came to her, desired him to “ see for her husband ;” and, 
on the man professing not to know which was “her husband,” she in an 
instant gave a description of him, which enabled the man to go on deck, 
and seek him out among many more who were there. I have ever since 
thought this a fine example of the power of passion. It had rendered one 
image so exclusively present to her imagination, that, in the midst of 
her terrors, she could strike off a picture of it that an utter stranger could 
not fail to recognize the moment he compared it with the original. The 
husband now returned, and, at the same instant, the terror and agitation 
that had possessed her during his absence vanished ; a half-smiling con- 
fidence once more spread itself over her features ; and all was as before. 
But I must draw this long narrative to a close. For two hours before 
what I have just described took place, we had been beating off Dover 
harbour, immediately before its mouth, but with too little water to think 
of attempting to enter. The day now broke; but the wind remained 
unabated, and blew directly off the land. Here we remained, beating 
up against it, by means of the steam, for two hours longer, but without 
daring to attempt an entrance. The shore was, even at this early hour, 
lined with the inhabitants, watching (as we thought) the event of any 
assistance that might be needed by us; and we every moment expected 
to see some of their pilot-boats put off for that purpose. Alas! we little 
knew the habits of feeling that are engendered by commercial specula- 
tion—especially among the inhabitants of a sea-port town. We shortly 
after (thanks to our steam!) entered the harbour, and landed safely ; 
and, on my way to town the next day, I learned (from the very best 
authority—for it was one of the interested parties), what the reader will 
scarcely believe to be true (and what I should not dare to assert on any 
ground but the avowal of it to my own ears)—that the inhabitants 
of Dover were actually watching our fate from their shore, anxiously 
expecting—not to say hoping—that we should have gone down before 
their eyes! And my informant candidly confessed to me (on my 
inquiring why they did not send out boats to us), that it was probable, 
had we gone down, the last sounds we should have heard would have 
been shouts of exultation from the shore!! Does the reader divine— 
why ?—Because we were ina London steam-boat !_ And nothing could be 
more natural, as it seemed, to my informant, the stage-coachman who 
drove me to town.  “ Send out boats to your assistance! Why, Sir, the 
new steamers between London and Calais take above four hundred 
pounds a month from the coach-masters alone on this road!” This was 
unanswerable ; so I said no more—but silently blessed my stars that I 
had been in a steamer, and determined never to set my foot in one again ; 
since, though it had in fact saved us, by keeping us off the rocks (which 
I firmly believe nothing else would), yet it might have lost us, by 
depriving us, in case we had needed it, of that assistance which we 
should otherwise have had offered to us at the risk of the offerers’ lives, 
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