"Better wait," he muttered, and turned his gaze seaward again. Yes,

there could be no doubt that the almost unbroken swell within half a

cable's length of the ship promised a possibility of escape. There was

no telling what dangers lay beyond. To his reckoning, the nearest land

was twenty miles distant, but the shoal water might extend all the way,

and, with a falling wind, waves once disintegrated would not regain any

considerable size. It was a throw of the dice for life, but it must be

taken. He indulged in a momentary thought as to his own course. Would

he leave the ship in the last boat? Yes, if every wounded man on board

were taken off first; and how could he entertain even a shred of hope

that his cowardly crew would preserve such discipline to the end as to

permit of that being done?

The answer to his mute question came sooner than he expected. He had

been standing there alone about five minutes, intently watching the set

of the sea, so as to determine the best time for lowering a boat, when,

amid the sustained shriek of the wind and the lashing of the spray, he

heard sounds which told him that the forward port life-boat was being

swung outward on the davits. The hurricane deck was a mass of confused

figures. The two boats to starboard, a life-boat and the jolly-boat,

had been carried across the deck in readiness to take the places of the

port life-boats. A landsman might think that medley reigned supreme;

but it was not so. Sailor-like work was proceeding with the utmost

speed and system, when an accident happened. For some reason never

ascertained, though it was believed that the men in the leading boat

were too anxious to clear the falls and failed to take the proper

precautions, the heavy craft pitched stern foremost into the sea. She

sank like a stone, and with her went a number of Chileans; their

despairing yells, coming up from the churning froth, seemed to be a

signal for the demoniac passions latent in the crew to burst forth

again, this time in a consuming blaze that would not be stayed. Each

man fought blindly for himself, heedless now of all restrictions. The

knowledge of this latest disaster spread with amazing rapidity. Up

from the saloon came a rush of stewards and others. Overborne in the

panic-stricken flight, Gray, Tollemache, Christobal, the French Count

and the head steward, not knowing what new catastrophe threatened,

brought Mr. Somerville and the almost inanimate women with them,

leaving to their fate those who, like Boyle, were unable to move. Some

of the mob rushed up the bridge companion; others made for the after

ladders used only by sailors; others, again, swung themselves to the

spar deck by the rails and awning standards. Even before Courtenay

could reach the scene, both the second and third officers were stabbed,

this time mortally. He saw one of the infuriated mutineers heave the

third officer's body overboard--a final quittance for some injury

previously received.




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