with it doubled under her. To put her to bed in
such pain was out of the question; her mother's arms was the only
place in which she could find any rest. So Mrs. Orban remained on
deck in the cool with Miss Chase near her. The children's bedtime
was quite forgotten; in fact, after the doctor had examined Becky
and reported on her injuries, Nesta, Eustace, and Peter had
disappeared--probably out of range of orders to go to bed. Their
mother, when she gave them a thought, supposed them to be all
together, and in her anxiety over Becky never realized how late it
was getting.

It was quite dark. All the other children had disappeared. Most of
the grown-ups who had begun the voyage together, and were friendly
by now, were in the music-room below having a concert. The ship was
utterly still but for the throb of the engines and the "swish" of
the water as the bows cut through it. They were running at full
speed, without a pitch or a roll, the sea as clear as glass, when
all of a sudden there was an awful crash, and the boat shuddered
from bow to stern.

In an instant the peaceful scene was changed to one of wildest
confusion. There were cries of terror, hurried questions, rapid
orders, the crew dashing hither and thither, and a stream of
horror-stricken people began swarming up from below. It was awful,
the intense darkness of the night adding to the confusion
immeasurably.

"We've struck on a rock," Mrs. Orban heard some one say. "There
isn't a minute to lose."

"Man the boats!" called a strident voice, and there was a running
of ropes over pulleys, a creaking and a splashing not far away.

"Here you are, ma'am," a seaman said, taking her by the arm.

"Oh, the children!" said Mrs. Orban, holding back.

"We're here, mother," said Nesta's voice at her elbow.

"We'll see to them, ma'am," said the seaman; "you and the little
one first."

He was almost rough in his kindness; and Mrs. Orban found herself
swinging down into the boat below before she had time to make any
protestations.

One after another, through pitch darkness into the only chance for
safety, people were sent down. It was impossible to know who
came--nothing could be seen or heard. The seamen above could not
stop to pick and choose, but whoever they could lay hands on went.

Then came a hoarse cry--the boat was becoming overcrowded, the crew
pushed off, and away they went with a bound at every stroke of the
oars. To Mrs. Orban it was a hideous night