“Have you anything valuable that you wish to save—if we are saved?” he asked, seeming suddenly to remember that she might have something.
“Yes, I have a few important papers and my mother’s jewels. I went down to get them after the explosion. How did it happen?” she asked.
“No one knows. It was one of those accidents which cannot be accounted for. The whole fore part of the ship is nearly blown to pieces,” he returned, gloomily.
Star shuddered, and then turned to watch the men let down the boats.
There were only three of them, the others having been destroyed or blown overboard. These were quickly filled by the frantic passengers and emigrants, who scrambled into them in spite of the orders of the captain to await his commands.
They took everything into their own hands, and as soon as the seats were taken, began to push off, regardless of the appealing cries of those remaining on board, the anger of the captain, and the threats of the sailors.
Mr. Rosevelt and Star were among those left, and the old man pleaded for a place for the young girl, calling them inhuman brutes to seek their own safety and leave a delicate girl to perish.
“The boats will hold no more!” the frantic creatures cried. “Every one must look out for himself in such a time as this.”
“Wretches! have you no feeling? Are there no fathers and mothers among you? Will you see this child go down before your very eyes? You must take her!” he cried, wildly, authoritatively.
A feeling of shame seemed to come over them; there followed a moment of consultation, a counting of those in the different boats, then a reluctant consent was gained to take her into one of them.