Chapter 14

CHAPTER XIV.

OCTOBER 29th:--NIGHT.--The scene, as night came on, was terrible
indeed. Notwithstanding the desperateness of our situation,
however, there was not one of us so paralyzed by fear, but that
we fully realized the horror of it all.

Poor Ruby, indeed, is lost and gone, but his last words were
productive of serious consequences. The sailors caught his cry
of "Picrate, picrate!" and being thus for the first time made
aware of the true nature of their peril, they resolved at every
hazard to accomplish their escape. Beside themselves with
terror, they either did not or would not, see that no boat could
brave the tremendous waves that were raging around, and
accordingly they made a frantic rush towards the yawl. Curtis
again made a vigorous endeavour to prevent them, but this time
all in vain; Owen urged them on, and already the tackling was
loosened, so that the boat was swung over to the ship's side, For
a moment it hung suspended in mid-air, and then, with a final
effort from the sailors, it was quickly lowered into the sea.
But scarcely had it touched the water, when it was caught by an
enormous wave which, recoiling with resistless violence, dashed
it to atoms against the "Chancellor's" side.

The men stood aghast; they were dumbfoundered. Long-boat and
yawl both gone, there was nothing now remaining to us but a small
whale-boat. Not a word was spoken; not a sound was heard but the
hoarse whistling of the wind, and the mournful roaring of the
flames. From the centre of the ship, which was hollowed out like
a furnace, there issued a column of sooty vapour that ascended to
the sky. All the passengers, and several of the crew, took
refuge in the aft-quarters of the poop. Mrs. Kear was lying
senseless on one of the hen-coops, with Miss Herbey sitting
passively at her side; M. Letourneur held his son tightly clasped
to his bosom. I saw Falsten calmly consult his watch, and note
down the time in his memorandum-book, but I was far from sharing
his, composure, for I was overcome by a nervous agitation that I
could not suppress.

As far as we knew, Lieutenant Walter, the boatswain, and such of
the crew as were not with us, were safe in the bow; but it was
impossible to tell how they were faring because the sheet of fire
intervened like a curtain, and cut off all communication between
stem and stern.

I broke the dismal silence, saying "All over now, Curtis."

"No, sir, not yet," he replied, "now that the panel is open we
will set to work, and pour water with all our might down into the
furnace, and may be, we shall put it out, even yet."

"But how can you work your pumps while the deck is burning? and
how can you get at your men beyond that sheet of