ull
quarter of a mile distant appeared the Magnolia; and it was evident that
a considerable time must elapse before she could get alongside. Would
the wreck of the Belle keep afloat so long?

At a glance I was convinced it would not. I felt it settling down under
my feet inch by inch; and the blaze already threatened the after-part of
the boat, licking the light wood-work of the gaudy saloon as if it had
been flax! Not a moment was to be lost: we must take voluntarily to the
water, be drawn in by the sinking wreck, or driven to it by the fire.
One of the three was inevitable!

You will fancy me to have been in a state of extreme terror at this
moment. Such, however, was not the case. I had not the slightest fear
for my own safety: not that I was redeemed from the common lot by any
superior courage, but simply that I had confidence _in my resources_.
Though sufficiently reckless in my temperament, I have never been a
fatalist. I have saved my life more than once by acts of volition--by
presence of mind and adroitness. The knowledge of this has freed me
from the superstitions of fore-ordination and fatalism; and therefore,
when not too indolent, I take precautions against danger.

I had done so on the occasion of which I am writing. In my portmanteau
I carried--I do so habitually--a very simple contrivance, a
life-preserver. I always carry it in such a position as to be ready to
the hand. It is but the work of a moment to adjust this, and with it
around my body I feel no fear of being plunged into the broadest river,
or even a channel of the sea. It was the knowledge of this, and not any
superior courage, that supported me.

I ran back to my state-room--the portmanteau was open--and in another
moment I held the piece of quilted cork in my hands. In a few seconds
its strap was over my head, and the strings securely knotted around my
waist.

Thus accoutred, I stood _inside_ the state-room, intending to remain
there till the wreck should sink nearer the surface of the water.
Settling rapidly as it was, I was convinced I should not have long to
wait. I closed the inner door of the room, and turned the bolt. The
outer one I held slightly ajar, my hand firmly clutching the handle.

I had my object in thus shutting myself up. I should be less exposed to
the view of the terror-stricken wretches that ran to and fro like
spectres--for any fear I now had was of _them_--not of the water. I
knew that, should the