there still remained unanswered the
question that robbed every sensation of its thrill. While they were
singing the hymns of thanksgiving in the saloon that night, and
listening to the fervent prayers; while they ate, drank and were merry,
their thoughts were not of the day but of the morrow. What of the
morrow? In the eyes of every one who laughed and sang dwelt the
unchanging shadow of anxiety; on every face was stamped an expression
that spoke more plainly than words the doubts and misgivings that
constituted the background of their jubilation. They had escaped the
sea, but would they ever escape the land? Had God, in answer to their
complaints and prayers, directed them to a land from which the hand of
man would never rescue them? Were they isolated here in the untraversed
southern seas, cast upon an island unknown to the rest of the world? Or
were they, on the other hand, within reach of human agencies by which
the world might be made acquainted with their plight?

Uppermost in every mind was the sickening recollection, however, that
for days they had ranged the sea without sighting a single craft. They
were far from the travelled lanes, they were out of the worth-while
world. Hope rested solely on the possibility that the hills and forests
hid from view the houses and wharves of a desolate little sea-town set
up by the far-reaching people of the British Isles.

The story of Percival's achievement was not long in going the rounds.
It went through the customary process of elaboration. By the time it
reached his ears,--through the instrumentality of Mr. Morris Shine, the
motion picture magnate,--it had assumed sufficient magnitude to draw
from that enterprising gentleman a bona fide offer of quite a large sum
for the film rights in case Mr. Percival would agree to re-enact the
thrilling scene later on. In fact, Mr. Shine, having recovered his
astuteness and his courage simultaneously, was already working at the
preliminary details of the most "stupendous" picture ever conceived by
man. His deepest lament now was that he had neglected to bring a good
camera man down from New York, so that on the day of the explosion he
could have "got" the people actually jumping overboard, and drowning in
plain sight--(although he did not see them because of the trouble he
was having to get a seat in one of the life-boats),--and the wounded
scattered over the decks, the fire, the devastation, the departure and
return of the boats, t