It was a clear, warm day in late spring and a ship was leaving the
harbor, its departure accompanied by a merry clanking of chains as the
anchor was drawn up. The lusty cheers of the sailors floated back in
echoes. The shore was crowded with the wives and sweethearts of these
two hundred sailors, their brightly colored gowns and fluttering
handkerchiefs making a lovely picture against the background of the
green cliffs. On board the men were singing lustily as they performed
their tasks and the last echo of their happiness floated back clearly
to the little group on the shore as the ship dropped below the hill
and out of sight. The women had already settled down to their period
of watchful waiting and were trusting the safety of their loved ones
to God, who had always protected them and brought them home safely
before.
It was a clear, crisp night in late October and the moon was sending
its silvery beams out over the quiet waters. Everything was pervaded
by an air of mystery. Slowly, from far out at sea, a great ship came
slinking into the harbor. As it drew nearer, it glowed with crimson
lights. Then, suddenly every light went out and again the great
mysterious hulk was swallowed up in the darkness. Not a sound was
heard. Could this be the same ship that had sailed away so gayly three
years ago? No one awaited its coming, for it had been long given up
for lost. It came nearer and nearer, and a breeze, which had suddenly
come up, whistled through its thin sails and moved the spars, making a
sound like the rattling of dry bones. Then, as if in response to the
command of a ghostly captain, the great, black hulk sank into the
darkness under the water, leaving only a whirlpool to mark its
existence. It sank as it had sailed in; slowly and mysteriously.