party,
and a moment later all were occupied with the duties he had suggested.
By the time the ladies had returned to the deck the rapid provisioning
of the boats had been about completed, and a moment later the officer
who had gone below had returned to report. But his opinion was
scarcely needed to assure the huddled group of men and women that the
end of the LADY ALICE was at hand.

"Well, sir?" said the captain, as his officer hesitated.

"I dislike to frighten the ladies, sir," he said, "but she can't float
a dozen minutes, in my opinion. There's a hole in her you could drive
a bally cow through, sir."

For five minutes the LADY ALICE had been settling rapidly by the bow.
Already her stern loomed high in the air, and foothold on the deck was
of the most precarious nature. She carried four boats, and these were
all filled and lowered away in safety. As they pulled rapidly from the
stricken little vessel Jane Porter turned to have one last look at her.
Just then there came a loud crash and an ominous rumbling and pounding
from the heart of the ship--her machinery had broken loose, and was
dashing its way toward the bow, tearing out partitions and bulkheads as
it went--the stern rose rapidly high above them; for a moment she
seemed to pause there--a vertical shaft protruding from the bosom of
the ocean, and then swiftly she dove headforemost beneath the waves.

In one of the boats the brave Lord Tennington wiped a tear from his
eye--he had not seen a fortune in money go down forever into the sea,
but a dear, beautiful friend whom he had loved.

At last the long night broke, and a tropical sun smote down upon the
rolling water. Jane Porter had dropped into a fitful slumber--the
fierce light of the sun upon her upturned face awoke her. She looked
about her. In the boat with her were three sailors, Clayton, and
Monsieur Thuran. Then she looked for the other boats, but as far as
the eye could reach there was nothing to break the fearful monotony of
that waste of waters--they were alone in a small boat upon the broad
Atlantic.

Chapter 14

Back to the Primitive

As Tarzan struck the water, his first impulse was to swim clear of the
ship and possible danger from her propellers. He knew whom to thank
for his present predicament, and as he lay in the sea, just supporting
himself by a gentle movement of his hands, his chief emotion was one of
chagrin that he had been so easily bested by Rokoff.

He