"But I don't hear any more whistles." "Hark! there one sounded." "Miles away!" "Wait till the fog rises.

Perhaps there are others." Anxiously they watched the gray wall.

The wind died away, and once or twice it seemed that the fog was growing denser, instead of lightening.
But by and by the sunlight seemed to permeate it.

It appeared to become thinner.

Then, like a great curtain uplifted, it for a little while swung upward from the face of the heaving sea.