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Cord and Creese by James De Mille
page 41 of 706 (05%)
cataract at a great distance, whose roar, subdued by distance, sounds
faintly, yet warningly, to the ear.

At this first touch of the tempest, and the menacing voice of its
approach, not a word was spoken, but all stood mute. Brandon alone
appeared not to have noticed it. He still stood with folded arms and
absorbed air, gazing at the island.

The roar of the waters in the distance grew louder, and in the direction
from which it came the dark water was all white with foam, and the
boiling flood advanced nearer in myriad-numbered waves, which seemed now
like an army rushing to the charge, tossing on high its crested heads
and its countless foam-plumes, and threatening to bear down all before
it.

At last the tornado struck.

At the fierce blast of the storm the ship rolled far over, the masts
creaked and groaned, the waves rushed up and dashed against the side.

At that instant Cigole darted quickly toward Brandon, and the moment
that the vessel yielded to the blow of the storm he fell violently
against him. Before Brandon had noticed the storm or had time to steady
himself he had pushed him headlong over the rail and helplessly into the
sea--

"--liquidae projecit in undas
Praecipitem."

Cigole clung to the rail, and instantly shrieked out:
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