She wrapped
herself up once more, and came on deck, and sat down among the many who
were looking their last look at England. The early winter evening was
darkening in, and shutting out the Welsh coast, the hills of which were
like the hills of home. She was thankful when she became too ill to think
and remember.
Exhausted and still, she did not know whether she was sleeping or waking;
or whether she had slept since she had thrown herself down on her cot, when
suddenly, there was a great rush, and then Edward stood like lightning by
her, pulling her up by the arm.
"The ship is on fire--to the deck, Maggie! Fire! Fire!" he shouted, like
a maniac, while he dragged her up the stairs--as if the cry of Fire could
summon human aid on the great deep. And the cry was echoed up to heaven by
all that crowd in an accent of despair.
They stood huddled together, dressed and undressed; now in red lurid light,
showing ghastly faces of terror--now in white wreaths of smoke--as far away
from the steerage as they could press; for there, up from the hold,
rose columns of smoke, and now and then a fierce blaze leaped out,
exulting--higher and higher every time; while from each crevice on that
part of the deck issued harbingers of the terrible destruction that awaited
them.
The sailors were lowering the boats; and above them stood the captain, as
calm as if he were on his own hearth at home--his home where he never more
should be.
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