But for an occasional spasmodic indication of fear as they and their spar shot downward from some unusual elevation, he might have believed that he was drifting with a corpse.
Rolling, tossing, dragging through the billows, clinging to the friendly spar, Hugh Ridegway sped onward, his body stiff and sensationless, his brain fogged and his heart dead with that of the girl to whom he clung so desperately.

At last the monstrous waves began to show their outlines to his blinding eyes.

The blackness of the dome above became tinged with a discernible shade of ever-increasing brightness.

A thrill shot through his fagging soul as he realized that the long night was ending and day was dawning.

The sun was coming forth to show him his grave.
Slowly the brightness grew, and with it grew the most dreadful aspect that ever fell upon the eye of man--the mighty sea in all its fury.
Suddenly, as he poised on the summit of a huge wave, something ahead struck him as strange.