mare of awful anxiety.
She could not tell whether all her children and her sister were
with her or not. Her one ray of hope was that as they had
apparently been all standing close together, the others must have
been put in after her. But people had rushed so the moment they
knew the boats were lowered, there was an awful possibility the
children had been swept aside. They were certainly not near her,
for she called their names and Dorothy's again and again, and there
was no answer.

The men had not been rowing for seven minutes when there was a
sudden awful sound behind them, and the boat plunged and rocked as
if she were a living thing gone mad with terror.

"Oh, what was that?" Mrs. Orban cried, and the question ran from
mouth to mouth.

"The ship," answered a solemn voice with a break in it; "she's gone
under, poor thing. Must have been ripped from bows to stern."

The silence that followed was dreadful. How many boats had got
away? Who was left on board? There was not one in the boat who had
not a thought of agonized pity for the poor souls left behind.

It was so unexpected; every one was so unprepared. Who could
suppose that with a sea as calm as a mill-pond a great vessel could
strike on a rock and sink in less than seven minutes?

Afterwards, when the matter came to be investigated, it was
discovered that the _Cora_ had run on to a coral reef unmarked in
the charts. Coral reefs form with extraordinary rapidity, and are
infinitely dangerous, because they are so sharp as to cut like
razors. The loss of the _Cora_ was no one's fault; but that fact
was of but little comfort to those whose friends went down in her.

The boat pulled steadily on awhile, then paused, for no one could
be certain where she lay as regarded the shore.

"Easy, mates," said the man in command. "We must hang about till
there's a gleam of light to give us our bearings, or we shall go
down like that poor thing over there."

In the hush that fell it was possible to hear each other speak.
People began to question who was in the boat with them.

"Eustace, Nesta, Peter, are you there?" cried Mrs. Orban.

"Yes, mother; yes, mother," she heard, and her heart bounded with
thankfulness.

"And you, Dorothy?" she forced herself to say.

But to this there was no answer.

"Children," Mrs. Orban said, "isn't your aunt there?"

"I don't know," Eustace said; "she wouldn't come before us."

There could be no doubt that Miss Chase was not th