“I felt for leaving my mother, but I did not feel any fear about going down. I felt some fear on the Monday.”
“But you got accustomed to it, I suppose?”
“Yes.”
“What else do you remember?”
“About twenty persons stood watching King and Daniell getting the port cutter ready; but King and Daniell induced them to go and try to launch the port pinnace. Both went to help them to do so, but as soon as they got them engaged at the pinnace, King and Daniell slipped away, and were busy about their own boat again.”
“And how did you get into the boat?”
“I was in the mizen-shrouds. I asked King and Daniell would they allow me in, and they said ‘Yes,’ and bid me jump. I did so. The fall was about ten feet. Another midshipman was in the next shrouds, but he was afraid to jump, and he went down with the ship.”
CHAPTER VIII.
THE ANCHOR WITHIN THE VEIL.
Why was it, it is time to ask, that there was not a greater clamouring after escape, both among passengers and crew? Why was it, that when all on board knew that the ship was doomed, and that at any moment the deep might open to swallow them up, there was not that wild delirium and agony of despair which we have been accustomed to see associated with such considerations? To understand this in some measure, we must take a glance at what had transpired in the saloon of the vessel from the commencement of the voyage.