hat the screw had stopped. The
noise of its beating was not among the many noises I heard. If it had
stopped, only one thing could have happened. The _Sea Queen_ must be
ashore. That was the explanation. We had struck.

I was now the more anxious, as you may conceive, to get out of the
cabin, for if we had struck it was essential to know how we stood and
what degree of risk we ran. For all I knew, the yacht might be sinking
at that moment or breaking up upon rocks. Finding egress through the
door impossible, I made my way with difficulty to the other side of the
_boudoir_, where I knew there was a communication with the bedrooms.
This door stood open, as it had been flung by the shock, and I was now
able to locate the sounds of the screaming. They came from the cabin
beyond, which I knew to be Mademoiselle's. I guided myself as well as I
could to the door giving access to the corridor and unlocked it. As I
did so a speck of light gleamed in the darkness and arrested me. It
enlarged and emerged upon me till it took the shape of a candle, and
underneath it I beheld the capable face of the French maid Juliette.

"It is necessary I should have something to quiet Mademoiselle,
monsieur," said she in her tranquil way.

"I am in search of something now for the Princess, Juliette," I
explained. "Thank God for your light. How did you get it?"

"I always have a candle with me when I travel, Monsieur," she replied.
She was the most sensible woman I had ever met, and I could have
embraced her.

"The yacht has gone aground," I said. "I will find out how much damage
has been done. I will bring back what is necessary. The Princess lies
in there. See to her."

With that I left her and stepped into the corridor. Like the cabins, it
was opaque with the night, but I groped my way across it without
hearing any sounds of living people--only that terrible turmoil of
waters without. I knew where my bag was. It was in the small cabin
which the Prince used as his smoking-room, and in which we had
sometimes played cards to pass the time during those days of anxiety
and trouble. The first door I opened seemed to give me access to the
open sea. The wind ramped in my face, and would have thrown me back,
and I was drenched with a cascade of water. I thought I must have
opened the door to the deck until I remembered that that had been
destroyed in the fight. I put out a hand, and it touched a piece of
furniture, and then once again the sea bro