Twelve sail of the Gloucester fishing fleet had gone down with every soul on board, just outside of Whale's-back Light.

Think of the wide grief that follows in the wake of one wreck; then think of the despairing women who wrung their hands and wept, the next morning, in the streets of Gloucester, Marblehead, and Newcastle! Though our strength was nearly spent, we were too cold to sleep.

Once I sunk into a troubled doze, when I seemed to bear Charley Marden's parting words, only it was the Sea that said them.

After that I threw off the drowsiness whenever it threatened to overcome me.
Fred Langdon was the earliest to discover a filmy, luminous streak in the sky, the first glimmering of sunrise.
"Look, it is nearly daybreak!" While we were following the direction of his finger, a sound of distant oars fell on our ears.
We listened breathlessly, and as the dip of the blades became more audible, we discerned two foggy lights, like will-o'the-wisps, floating on the river.
Running down to the water's edge, we hailed the boats with all our might.

The call was heard, for the oars rested a moment in the row-locks, and then pulled in towards the island.
It was two boats from the town, in the foremost of which we could now make out the figures of Captain Nutter and Binny Wallace's father.