Justin, clinging still to the shrouds, bent his head forward to see whence it came. And to his horror and grief, he saw a man’s hand and arm strike up for an instant through the foaming wave and then sink out of sight.
“Great Heaven! Who is it? Which of my friends has been swept off?” cried Justin, gazing in sorrow upon a calamity that he was powerless to prevent.
But the arm arose no more, and Justin turned his head to look over the portion of the deck that was still above water to see what had become of his companions.
There were but three of them—Mr. Ely and Mr. Breton, whom the sailors had refused to receive on the heavily-laden lifeboats, and Captain McKenzie, whom they would willingly have taken off, but that he regarded it as a point of honor to remain with the passengers whom he was unable to rescue.
Justin, looking all over the deck, saw nothing of these men. Until the moment he had heard the cry of the drowning man, he had been so much absorbed in watching the fate of the lifeboat which contained all that he loved most on earth, that he had quite forgotten his companions in misfortune. Now, however, he looked around for them with great anxiety. One of them was lost—carried off the deck by that last great wave—that was certain; but which one? Was it either of the two young missionaries who with himself had been abandoned to destruction, or was it the brave and loyal McKenzie, who voluntarily shared the fate of those whom he could not save?
It was impossible as yet to tell; for, look as he might, Justin could see neither of his companions.
He tried to think when and where he had seen them last, and he recollected that it was on the starboard gangway, where the three stood near together when the first lifeboat, containing, besides a portion of the crew, the two young missionary ladies, was preparing to leave the ship. He himself had turned away and followed Britomarte to the stern, and his whole attention had been given to her until he lowered her into the second lifeboat. And after that he had seen no more either of the missionaries or the captain.
Now what had become of them? One was drowned; but where were the others? Justin asked himself the question, and looked about for the answer in vain. They were nowhere in sight. They were not on deck, that also was certain. It was possible that the two survivors might be in the cabin, which from the position of the wreck was as yet a place of safety. He called aloud with all the strength of his sonorous voice, which rang out clearly above the thunder of the waves:
“Ely!—Breton!—McKenzie!”
“And but the sounding sea replied,