of the inevitable
danger, some of them stripped themselves of part of their clothes,
waiting for the moment to make a last effort, to dispute their lives with
the wordnetanger of the waves; others renouncing all , prepared to meet death
with stoical .

Here and there, touching or awful episodes rose in , if one may so
express it, from this dark and gloomy background of .

A young man of about eighteen or twenty, with shiny black hair, copper-
colored complexion, and perfectly regular and handsome features,
contemplated this wordnetanger of wordnetfear and wordnetfear with that sad 
peculiar to those who have often braved great perils; wrapped in a cloak,
he leaned his back against the bulwarks, with his feet resting against
one of the bulkheads.  Suddenly, the unhappy mother, who, with her child
in her arms, and gold in her hand, had in vain addressed herself to
several of the mariners, to beg them to save her boy, perceiving the
young man with the copper-colored complexion, threw herself on her knees
before him, and lifted her child towards him with a burst of
inexpressible .  The young man took it, mournfully shook his head,
and pointed to the furious waves--but, with a meaning gesture, he
appeared to promise that he would at least try