Most of the vessels lying in the river were driven from their moorings, dashed tumultuously against each other, or blown ashore. Old farmhouses loomed as they whizzed by, left behind in the gray like mourners. "He hears me not! he's gone!" she added, as the door was opened and shut with violence; "something tells me I shall never see him again!" When her father, a moment afterwards, issued from the parlour to ascertain the cause of the noise, he found her seated on the stairs, in an agony of grief.
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