The death of Alresca, the
jealousy of Carlotta Deschamps, the plot (if there was one) against
Rosa--what were these matters to me? But Rosa was something. She was
more than something; she was all. A lovely, tantalizing vision of her
appeared to float before my eyes.

I peered over the port rail to see whether we were in fact gradually
sinking. The heaving water looked a long way off, and the idea of this
raised my spirits for an instant. But only for an instant. The
apparent inactivity of those in charge annoyed while it saddened me.
They were not even sending up rockets now, nor burning Bengal lights.
I had no patience left to ask more questions. A mood of disgust seized
me. If the captain himself had stood by my side waiting to reply to
requests for information, I doubt if I should have spoken. I felt like
the spectator who is compelled to witness a tragedy which both wounds
and bores him. I was obsessed by my own ill-luck and the stupidity of
the rest of mankind. I was particularly annoyed by the spasmodic
hymn-singing that went on in various parts of the deck.

The man who had burst into the saloon shouting "Where is my wife?"
reappeared from somewhere, and standing near to me started to undress
hastily. I watched him. He had taken off his coat, waistcoat, and
boots, when a quiet, amused voice said: "I shouldn't do that if I were
you. It's rather chilly, you know. Besides, think of the ladies."

Without a word he began with equal celerity to reassume his clothes. I
turned to the speaker. It was the youth who had dragged the girl away
from me when I first came up on deck. She was on his arm, and had a
rug over her head. Both were perfectly self-possessed. The serenity of
the young man's face particularly struck me. I was not to be out-done.

"Have a cigarette?" I said.

"Thanks."

"Do you happen to know what all this business is?" I asked him.

"It's a collision," he said. "We were struck on the port paddle-box.
That saved us for the moment."

"How did it occur?"

"Don't know."

"And where's the ship that struck us?"

"Oh, somewhere over there--two or three miles away." He pointed
vaguely to the northeast. "You see, half the paddle-wheel was knocked
off, and when that sank, of course the port side rose out of the
water. I believe those paddle-wheels weigh a deuce of a lot."

"Are we going to sink?"

"Don't know. Can tell you more in half an hour. I've got two
life-belts hidden under a seat. They're r