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Stevenson, Robert Louis

"The Wrecker"

We might be
running out of it, or we might be running right crack
into it. Well, there's always something sublime about
a big deal like that; and it kind of raises a man in
his own liking. We're a queer kind of beasts, Mr.
Dodd."
The morning broke with sinister brightness; the air
alarmingly transparent, the sky pure, the rim of the
horizon clear and strong against the heavens. The wind
and the wild seas, now vastly swollen, indefatigably
hunted us. I stood on deck, choking with fear; I
seemed to lose all power upon my limbs; my knees were
as paper when she plunged into the murderous valleys;
my heart collapsed when some black mountain fell in
avalanche beside her counter, and the water, that was
more than spray, swept round my ankles like a torrent.
I was conscious of but one strong desire--to bear
myself decently in my terrors, and, whatever should
happen to my life, preserve my character: as the
captain said, we are a queer kind of beasts.
Breakfast-time came, and I made shift to swallow some
hot tea. Then I must stagger below to take the time,
reading the chronometer with dizzy eyes, and marvelling
the while what value there could be in observations
taken in a ship launched (as ours then was) like a
missile among flying seas.


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