remaining erect, went down with sad majesty into the
deep. And nothing remained but the bubbling and foaming of the voracious
water, that had swallowed up the good ship, and her cargo, and her
drunken master.

All stood up in the boats, ready to save him. But either his cutlass sunk
him, or the suction of so great a body drew him down. He was seen no more
in this world.

A loud sigh broke from every living bosom that witnessed that terrible
catastrophe.

It was beyond words; and none were uttered, except by Cooper, who spoke
so seldom; yet now three words of terrible import burst from him, and,
uttered in his loud, deep voice, rang like the sunk ship's knell over the
still bubbling water.

"SCUTTLED--BY GOD!"

CHAPTER XII.

"HOLD your tongue," said Welch, with an oath.

Mr. Hazel looked at Miss Rolleston, and she at him. It was a momentary
glance, and her eyes sank directly, and filled with patient tears.

For the first few minutes after the _Proserpine_ went down the survivors
sat benumbed, as if awaiting their turn to be ingulfed.

They seemed so little, and the _Proserpine_ so big; yet she was swallowed
before their eyes, like a crumb. They lost, for a few moments, all idea
of escaping.

But, true it is, that, "while there's life there's hope"; and, as soon as
their hearts began to beat again, their eyes roved round the horizon and
their elastic minds recoiled against despair.

This was rendered easier by the wonderful beauty of the weather. There
were men there who had got down from a sinking ship into boats heaving
and tossing against her side in a gale of wind, and yet been saved; and
here all was calm and delightful. To be sure, in those other shipwrecks
land had been near, and their greatest peril was over when once the boats
got clear of the distressed ship without capsizing. Here was no immediate
peril; but certain death menaced them, at an uncertain distance.

Their situation was briefly this. Should it come on to blow a gale, these
open boats, small and loaded, could not hope to live. Therefore they had
two chances for life, and no more. They must either make land--or be
picked up at sea--before the weather changed.

But how? The nearest known land was the group of islands called Juan
Fernandez, and they lay somewhere to leeward, but distant at least nine
hundred miles; and, should they prefer the other chance, then they must
beat three hundred miles and more to windward; for Hudson, und