At that instant there was a loud report forward, and the stern of the vessel lifted perceptibly. The bulkhead had given way, and there arose such a yell as surely was seldom heard before. To Augusta’s ears it seemed to shape itself into the word “Sinking!”
Up from the bowels of the ship poured the firemen, the appearance of whose blackened faces, lined with white streaks of perspiration, added a new impulse of terror to the panic-stricken throng. Aft they came, accompanied by a crowd of sailors and emigrants.
“Rush the boats,” sung out a voice with a strong Irish accent, “or sure we’ll be drowned!”
Taking the hint, the maddened mob burst towards the boats like a flood, blaspheming and shrieking as it came. In a moment the women and children who were waiting to take to the boat, in which Augusta and the two sea-men were already, were swept aside, and a determined effort was made to rush it, headed by a great Irishman, the same who had called out.
Augusta saw Mr. Tombey, Lord Holmhurst, who had come up, and the officer lift their pistols, which exploded almost simultaneously, and the Irishman and another man pitched forward on to their hands and knees.
“Never mind the pistols, lads,” shouted a voice; “as well be shot as drown. There isn’t room for half of us in the boats; come on!” And a second fearful rush was made, which bore the three gentlemen, firing as they went, right up against the nettings.
“Bill,” halloaed the man who was holding on to the foremost tackle, “lower away; we shall be rushed and swamped!”
Bill obeyed with heart and soul, and down sank the boat below the level of the upper decks, just as the mob was getting the mastery. In five seconds more they were hanging close over the water, and whilst they were in this position a man leapt at the boat from the bulwarks. He struck on the thwarts, rolled off into the water, and was no more seen. A lady, the wife of a Colonial Judge, threw her child; Augusta tried to catch it, but missed, and the boy sank and was lost. In another moment the two sailors had shoved off from the ship’s side. As they did so, the stern of the Kangaroo lifted right out of the water so that they could see under her rudder-post. Just then, too, with a yell of terror, Mr. Meeson, in whom the elementary principle of self-preservation at all costs was strongly developed, cast himself from the side and fell with a splash within a few feet of the boat. Rising to the surface, he clutched hold of the gunwale, and implored to be taken in.
“Knock the old varmint over the knuckles, Bill,” shouted the other man; “he’ll upset us!”
“No; no!” cried Augusta, her woman’s heart moved at seeing her old enemy in such a case. “There is plenty of room in the boat.”