sky gave us sufficient light to distinguish objects at a considerable
distance. As we looked out we saw several other persons still alive,
some swimming, others holding on to bits of timber. We shouted out to
them, lest they should not be aware that they could obtain a place to
rest on, at all events, until morning. A voice not far off answered us.
"Who is that?" I cried out, for I thought I recognised it. "Toby
Kiddle, sir," was the answer. He was swimming up towards us. "I have
just passed Mr Pember clinging to a piece of the wreck. I will go back
and try to bring him here."

"I will go with you," I said.

"No, no, youngster, stay where you are," observed Mr Noalles; "you will
be drowned if you make the attempt; I will go!" The next instant he was
striking out in the direction in which Toby was now swimming.

Esse and I watched them anxiously as they disappeared in the gloom. I
was very thankful to think that Toby Kiddle was alive, but I could not
help wishing that Pat Brady had escaped also, as I knew that he had been
on deck and close to Kiddle. While we were looking out for the return
of our shipmates, another man, one of the seamen, reached the wreck. He
said he was greatly scorched, and it seemed surprising that he should
have been able to swim so far. There were yet a number of people
floating about alive, and when we shouted several voices answered us.
Among them I thought I recognised Pat's. "Brady, is that you?" I cried
out. "By the powers it's myself, I belave," answered Pat, "but where I
have been to, or what I have been about, or where this is happening
bothers me particularly. And how I am ever to get to you is more than I
can tell."

"I must go to help him," said I to Esse, "for he will be drifted away,
even if he manages to cling to whatever he has got hold of."

"But surely he is drifting towards us," observed Esse. "He has got
nearer since he began to speak." Such indeed was the case, and even
before Kiddle and Mr Noalles returned with Pember, not only Pat, but
two or three other men had been drifted up to us. Pat had helped
himself along by striking out with his feet, though he was but a poor
swimmer; indeed, I have scarcely ever met an Irish seaman who could
swim. We could make out other people still floating at some distance.
Now and then a cry was heard. We shouted in return, but there was no
reply. It was the last despairing utterance of one of our shipmates,
before he