Bessie is aft
somewhere: I would not let her come. They are trying to keep the people
off the boats--they are all mad!"
"Are we sinking?" she asked faintly.
"God knows--ah! here is the captain," pointing to a man who was walking,
or rather pushing his way, rapidly towards them through the maddened,
screeching mob. Lord Holmhurst caught him by the arm.
"Let me go," he said roughly, trying to shake himself loose. "Oh! it is
you, Lord Holmhurst."
"Yes; step in here for one second and tell us the worst. Speak up, man,
and let us know all!"
"Very well, Lord Holmhurst, I will. We have run down a whaler of about
five hundred tons, which was cruising along under reduced canvas and
showing no lights. Our fore compartment is stove right in, bulging out
the plates on each side of the cut-water, and loosening the fore
bulkhead. The carpenter and his mates are doing their best to shore it up
from the inside with balks of timber, but the water is coming in like a
mill race, and I fear there are other injuries. All the pumps are at
work, but there's a deal of water, and if the bulkhead goes"--
"We shall go, too," said Lord Holmhurst, calmly. "Well, we must take to
the boats. Is that all?"
"In Heaven's name, is that not enough!" said the captain, looking up, so
that the light that was fixed in the companion threw his ghastly face
into bold relief.
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