covered his face with his hands, in an attitude of profound
desolation.

"Willis! Willis!" cried Jack, "I shall tell Sophia."

But there was neither the soft voice there, the caressing hand, nor
the sweet fascination of the young girl's presence, and Willis
continued immovable.

Becker saw that his was one of those minds that grew less calm the
more they were urged, and the excitement of which must be permitted to
wear itself out; he therefore beckoned his sons to leave him to his
own reflections.

The wind still blew a gale, and the pinnace pitched heavily; but the
sun was now beginning to break through the masses of lurid cloud, and
the air was becoming less and less charged with vapor.

"I can descry nothing either," said Becker; "and yet this is the
direction the storm must have driven the sloop."

"The sea is very capricious," suggested Fritz.

"True, but not to the extent of carrying a ship against the wind."

"Unfortunately," said Jack, "it is not on sea as on land, where the
slightest indications of an object lost may lead to its discovery; a
word dropped in the ear of a passer-by might put you on the track, but
here it is no use saying, 'Sir, did you not see the _Nelson_ pass this
way?'"