"Perhaps you are right, Mr. Seymour. It doesn't matter to me, anyway.I am a ruined man; but the poor passengers--the poor passengers!" Andhe scrambled away fiercely towards the bridge like a wounded cat alongthe bough of a tree, whence in a few seconds Robert heard him shoutingorders.

A minute or so afterwards the steamer stopped. Too late the captainhad decided to sacrifice his ship and save those she carried. Theywere beginning to get out the boats. Now Robert returned to the cabinwhere Benita was lying senseless, and wrapped her up in a cloak andsome blankets. Then, seeing the second lifebelt on the floor, by anafterthought he put it on, knowing that there was time to spare. Nexthe lifted Benita, and feeling sure that the rush would be for thestarboard side, on which the boats were very near the water, carriedher, with difficulty, for the slope was steep, to the port-cutter,which he knew would be in the charge of a good man, the secondofficer, whom he had seen in command there at Sunday boat-drills.

Here, as he had anticipated, the crowd was little, since most peoplethought that it would not be possible to get this boat down safely tothe water; or if their powers of reflection were gone, instinct toldthem so. That skilful seaman, the second officer, and his appointedcrew, were already at work lowering the cutter from the davits.

"Now," he said, "women and kidren first."

A number rushed in, and Robert saw that the boat would soon be full.

"I am afraid," he said, "that I must count myself a woman as I carryone," and by a great effort, holding Georgeita with one arm, with theother he let himself down the falls and, assisted by a quartermaster,gained the boat in safety.

0ne or two other men scrambled after him.

"Push her off," exclaimed the officer; "she can hold no more," and theropes were let go.