The boat reached the place, but only brought back the buoy. As nothing more could be done, the 'Silver Crown' resumed her voyage.
'Who has gone?' was the general inquiry.
No one could tell. The mate called over the muster-roll of the crew, and each man answered to his name.
It was evident that one of the emigrants had been the victim. When his name was called, and there was no reply, his wife declared that he was below collecting clothes for the wash. On discovering her mistake, she fell into a swoon, and on regaining her senses she became almost beside herself with grief.
It subsequently appeared that her husband, although frequently warned to keep clear of the big main topmast staysail sheet, had leaned across it to draw water while the sail was empty, and when the latter suddenly filled he was, of course, flung several feet clear of the racing hull.
Six children mourned his loss, while, to make matters still worse, every penny possessed by the unfortunate family was sewn into the lining of an overcoat which the man then wore.
After arrival at Brisbane the whole family was sent back to England, for the mother had become strange in her mind.
Well, the topgallant-sails and the royals were reset, a short funeral service was held, and throughout the remainder of that day a deep hush prevailed fore and aft.
On flew the clipper before the wind, and many large albatrosses followed in the wake.
Most of those beautiful birds must have measured quite eight feet from tip to tip of their extended wings, yet whether going with or against the wind no one could detect the slightest movement of their pinions.