opened, and soon there was a rattle
of chains and clang of machinery. Then up from the hold come bales,
boxes, and barrels which were unceremoniously dropped into the sea. The
cargo must go. No help had yet been sighted, and if they were to remain
afloat much longer, the ship would have to be lightened. "What a pity to
waste so much," said some, forgetting their own peril for the moment;
but human life is worth more than ships or cargos.

Very few cared to respond to the call for luncheon which the stewards
bravely kept up. The women who were too frightened to go below were
served on deck, being urged to eat by solicitous friends.

All afternoon the unloading went on. The ship moved slowly leaving a
train of floating merchandise in its wake. On the bridge the captain or
one of the officers paced back and forth with glass in hand eager to
catch the call of the man in the crow's nest if he should catch sight of
other vessels. But none were seen. The afternoon closed; darkness came
on. Then the light burned again from the bridge and the fog-horn added
its din to the dreariness.

Lucy kept to her position near the open deck. She would not go below, so
wraps and pillows were brought her and she was made as comfortable as
possible. Chester remained with her most of the time, the father came
and went in nervous uncertainty. Captain Brown stopped long enough to
tell Chester that since most of the cargo was overboard, they would
float a little longer, but they were to be ready at any time now to
leave the ship. The boats were provisioned, it was explained, and the
passengers would be allowed to take with them only what could be carried
in a small bundle. Very likely, they would not need to desert the ship
before morning, so they had better rest.

But there was neither rest nor sleep that night. Chester tucked his
father into a seat, placed a pillow for his head, then, seeing that Lucy
was comfortable, sat down by her. She lifted the cover from her
shoulders, and extended it to his. It dropped to his lap also, so thus
they sat in the dim glow of the electric light. Life belts were within
easy reach.

It was well past midnight when the lights went out. Then the beat, beat
of the engines grew less, became fainter, and then like a great heart,
ceased. The ship was dead, and lifeless it must float at the mercy of
wind and wave. Then from below came the cries of men, and there were
hurried steps and sharp commands on deck. Chest