From the huge whirlpool which the sinking wreck occasioned, arose a shriek so loud and shrill⁠—the death-cry of a hundred drowning creatures, blended into one fierce yell⁠—that it rung far above the war-cry of the elements, and echoed, and reechoed till it seemed to pierce air, sky, and ocean. But what was that⁠—that old gray head that rose above the water’s surface, and with looks of agony, and screams for aid, buffeted with the waves! One look, and he had sprung from the vessel’s side, and with vigorous strokes was swimming towards it. He reached it; he was close upon it. They were

his features. The old man saw him coming, and vainly strove to elude his grasp. But he clasped him tight, and dragged him beneath the water. Down, down with him, fifty fathoms down; his struggles grew fainter and fainter, until they wholly ceased. He was dead; he had killed him, and had kept his oath.