Then came a storm so terrible that I can hardly trust myself to describe its fury. The entire corps dramatique personated the elements, and tore the gallant ship in twain, while Sir Patrick shouted in the teeth of the gale,—
"'O whaur will I get a gude sailor
To tak' my helm in hand.
Till I get up to the tall topmast
To see if I can spy land?'"
I knew the words a trifle better than Francesca, and thus succeeded in forestalling her as the fortunate hero:—
"'O here am I, a sailor gude,
To tak' the helm in hand,
Till you go up to the tall topmast;
But I fear ye'll ne'er spy land.'"
And the heroic sailor was right, for
"He hadna gone a step, a step,
A step but only ane,
When a bout flew out o' our goodly ship,
And the saut sea it came in."
Then we fetched a web o' the silken claith, and anither o' the twine, as our captain bade us; we wapped them into our ship's side and letna the sea come in; but in vain, in vain. Laith were the gude Scots lords to weet their cork-heeled shune, but they did, and wat their hats abune; for the ship sank in spite of their despairing efforts,
"And mony was the gude lord's son
That never mair cam' hame."
