was impossible, and there
proceeded to interchange the remarks common to such occasions.

For a good ten minutes did they stand thus, carrying on a mock quarrel
as to a dance of which one of them was supposed to have been defrauded,
until Robert Seymour, generally a very philosophical person, could have
slain those innocent lovers. He felt, he knew not why, that his chances
were slipping away from him; that sensation of something bad about to
happen, of which Benita had spoken, spread from her to him. The suspense
grew exasperating, terrible even, nor could it be ended. To ask her to
come elsewhere was under the circumstances not feasible, especially as
he would also have been obliged to request the other pair to make way
for them, and all this time, with a sinking of the heart, he felt that
probably Benita was beating down any tenderness which she might feel
towards him; that when her long-delayed answer did come the chances were
it would be "No."

The piano began to play again in the saloon, and the young people, still
squabbling archly, at length prepared to depart. Suddenly there was a
stir upon the bridge, and against the tender sky Robert saw a man dash
forward. Next instant the engine-room bell rang fiercely. He knew the
signal--it was "Stop," followed at once by other ringings that meant
"Full speed astern."

"I wonder what is up?" said the young man to the young woman.

Before the words had left his lips they knew. There was a sensation as
though all the hull of the great ship had come to a complete standstill,
while the top part of her continued to travel forward; followed by
another sensation still more terrible and sickening in its nature--that
of slipping over something, helplessly, heavily, as a man slips upon ice
or a polished floor. Spars cracked, ropes flew in two with a noise as of
pistol shots. Heavy objects rushed about the deck, travelling forwards
all of them. Benita was hurled from her chair against Robert so that the
two of them rolled into the scuppers. He was unhurt and picked himself
up, but she lay still, and he saw that something had struck her upon the
head, for blood was running down her cheek. He lifted her, and, filled
with black horror and despair--for he thought her gone--pressed his hand
upon her heart. Thank God! it began to beat again--she still lived.

The music in the saloon had stopped, and for a little while there
was silence. Then of an instant there arose the horrible cla