wept long and passionately.

At length Wilfrid lifted up his voice and heart in fervent prayer to
that Almighty and merciful God, who had delivered Daniel from the
lions' den, and preserved his faithful servants, Meshach, Shadrach and
Abednego, unharmed in the fiery furnace. Prince Edwin, on the
contrary, gave himself up to despair, and when he saw the king's ship
spreading her canvas to the gale, and fast receding from his sight, he
uttered a cry that was heard above the uproar of the winds and waves.
Starting up in the boat, and extending his arms toward the disappearing
vessel, he unwittingly lost his balance, and was in a moment ingulfed
in the stormy billows.

We may imagine the anguish and terror of Wilfrid on witnessing the sad
fate of his young lord, which he had no power to prevent. Thoughts of
his widowed mother's grief for himself, too, came over his mind and
filled his eyes with tears, for her, as well as for his ill-fated lord.
For himself, however, he felt no fears, even in this dreadful hour,
when left companionless on the tempestuous ocean, for his trust was
firm and steadfast in the mercies of his Heavenly Father.

That night the winds roared, and the waves raged mightily. Many a
gallant bark foundered in the storm, and many a skillful seaman found a
watery grave before the morning dawned in the cloudy horizon. But the
frail vessel into which the unfortunate Atheling and his page had been
thrust, weathered the gale and, with her lonely tenant, Wilfrid, was
driven ashore at a place called Whitesande, on the coast of Picardy, in
France.

When Wilfrid landed, he was drenched through and through. He was