"Come on!" said Mr. Tombey, stooping to lift her over the side, only to
be nearly knocked down by a man who made a desperate effort to get into
the boat. It was Mr. Meeson, and, recognising him, Mr. Tombey dealt him a
blow that sent him spinning back.
"A thousand pounds for a place!" he roared. "Ten thousand pounds for a
seat in a boat!" And once more he scrambled up at the bulwarks, trampling
down a child as he did so, and was once more thrown back.
Mr. Tombey took Augusta and the child into his strong arms and put her
into the boat. As he did so, he kissed her forehead and murmured, "God
bless you, good-bye!"
At that instant there was a loud report forward, and the stern of the
vessel lifted perceptibly. The bulkhead had given way, and there arose
such a yell as surely was seldom heard before. To Augusta's ears it
seemed to shape itself into the word "_Sinking_!"
Up from the bowels of the ship poured the firemen, the appearance of
whose blackened faces, lined with white streaks of perspiration, added a
new impulse of terror to the panic-stricken throng. Aft they came,
accompanied by a crowd of sailors and emigrants.
"Rush the boats," sung out a voice with a strong Irish accent, "or sure
we'll be drowned!"
Taking the hint, the maddened mob burst towards the boats like a flood,
blaspheming and shrieking as it came.
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