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Updated: May 12, 2025
I crawl'd forth and woke Delia, who was yet sleeping: and together we ate the breakfast that lay ready set for us on the head of a barrel. Presently the sailors broke off their song, and we heard their feet shuffling to and fro on deck. "Sure," cried Delia, "we are moving!"
I crawl'd to my feet, rested a moment to stay the giddiness, and totter'd across to the door, where I lean'd, listening and gazing south. No strip of vapor lay on the moors that stretch'd all bathed in the most wonderful bright colors to the lip of the horizon. The air was like a sounding board.
A while of weakness followed. My brain reel'd: my fingers dug into the rock behind till they bled. I bent forward forward over the heaving mist through which the sea crawl'd like a snake. It beckon'd me down, that crawling water.... I stiffened my knees and the faintness pass'd. I must not look down again. It flashed on me that Delia had call'd me weak: and I hardened my heart to fight it out.
The gay and crowded audience at the Art Rooms, Philadelphia, Tuesday night, April 15, 1890, says a correspondent of the Boston Transcript, April 19, might not have thought that W. W. crawl'd out of a sick bed a few hours before, crying, Dangers retreat when boldly they're confronted,
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