Mr. Ely and Mr. Breton each rushed to the rescue of his wife.
Riordan hurried his daughter up the companion ladder.
Justin Rosenthal came to the side of Britomarte Conyers.
His face was very pale, but his voice was firm as he hastily addressed her.
“The ship is a total wreck; the crew are about to abandon her, but they have consented to save the women. Let me take you to the lifeboats.”
“I will go with you on deck,” she answered, calmly giving him her hand.
The other women of the cabin had been taken away by the men that had come for them.
Justin and Britomarte now followed them up on deck.
But oh! what a scene of unparalleled horror and desolation met their appalled sight! The sun was just struggling up above the horizon through masses of black and ragged clouds; the thunder and lightning had ceased, and the wind had died away, but the infuriated sea still foamed with rage, and rose in mighty waves, and roared above the ship and fell in thunder over her decks. The ship, a mere shattered wreck, lay impaled upon the sharp rocks that had penetrated her keel; her bows were under water, and the waves dashed over her every minute, threatening to divide her amidships, but fortunately, her stern was lifted high out of the sea, and wedged in a ravine or crevice of the rocks; heavy clouds and fogs rested on the tempestuous ocean, and no one could see where the land lay, if indeed there was any land near, or anything else but this chain of sunken rocks which had proved a reef of death to the fated ship.
The lifeboats were all launched, and the crew were crowding into them.