e?" wailed the woman.
"Here, here I am," another voice answered at length; "here I am, I'm all
right." "Oh," exclaimed the woman with a sob of relief, "here's Gussie;
now let's all keep together whatever happens."

All about the decks just such scenes were going on; most of the women
wore only their night-gowns or dressing-gowns, their hair tumbling down
and blowing about their cheeks, their bare feet slipping and sliding on
the heaving wet decks. The men were in shirt and drawers, standing in
the centre of their family groups, silent, excited, very watchful;
others of them ran about searching for life-preservers, shouting
hoarsely, talking to themselves, speaking all their thoughts aloud.

But there was no panic; there was excitement, confusion, bewilderment,
but no excess of fear, no unreasoning terror, deaf, blind, utterly
reckless.

All at once a man parted the crowd with shoulders and elbows, passing
along the deck with great strides. It was the captain. The next instant
Vandover saw him on the bridge, hatless, without his vest or his coat,
just as he had sprung from his berth. From time to time he shouted his
orders, leaning over the rail, gesturing with his arm. The crew ran
about, carrying out his directions, jostling the men out of the way,
knocking over women and children, speaking to no one, intent only upon
their work.

In a few moments the deck steward and one of the officers appeared amid
the crowd of passengers. They were very calm, and at every instant
shouted, "There is no danger; every one go back to his berth; clear the
deck, please; no danger, gentlemen; everybody be quiet; go back to your
berths!" The steward even came up to Vandover and pulled at the straps
of his life-preserver, exclaiming, "Take this off! There is no danger;
you're only exciting the other passengers. Come on, take it off and go
back to your berth."

Vandover obeyed him, slowly loosening the buckles, looking around him,
bewildered, but still holding the preserver in his hands.

Best of all, however, was the example of a huge old fellow wearing the
cap and clothes of a boatswain's mate of a United States battleship; he
seemed to dominate the excited throng in a moment, going about from
group to group, quieting them all, spreading a feeling of confidence and
courage throughout the whole ship. He was an inspiration to Vandover,
who began to be ashamed of having yielded to the first selfish instinct
of preservation.

Just as