sheaves within the Communion rails--remains for me the dark
little building where the bodies lay in rows waiting to be identified,
and where I and half-a-dozen volunteers took turns in keeping watch day
and night while the windows shook and the damp oozed down the walls.

"The cause of the wreck was never made clear. The helmsman had gone,
and the captain (his body was among the missing), and the first, second,
and third officers. But two seamen who had been successively relieved
at the wheel in the early hours of the night agreed on the course set by
the captain. It was a course which must finally bring them straight on
Menawhidden. Yet there was no evidence to show that the captain changed
it. The men knew nothing of Channel navigation, and had simply obeyed
orders. She had struck during the first mate's watch. The fourth
officer (survivor) had also been on deck. He gave evidence that his
superior, Mr. Rands, had said nothing about the course. For his own
part he had supposed the ship to be a good fifteen miles from the coast.
They had sighted no shore-lights to warn them: but the weather was hazy.
Five minutes before the catastrophe Mr. Rands had remarked that the wind
was increasing, but had deferred shortening sail. The ship was an old
one, but newly rigged throughout. Her compasses had been adjusted and
the ship swung at Greenhithe, just before the voyage. Mr. Murchison,
the captain, was a trusted commander of the H.E.I.C.: he came originally
from Liverpool, and had worked his way up in the company's service: a
positive man and something of a disciplinarian, almost a martinet--not a
man who would bear crossing easily. He was in his cabin, but came on
deck at once, ready dressed; and had, with Colonel Stanhope's
assistance, kept admirable order, getting out the three boats as
promptly as possible. A fourth had actually been launched, and was
being manned when the vessel plunged and stove her in as she went down.

"That is as much as needs be told about the _Nerbuddha_. Let me get on
to the happier part of the story, that which concerns Dick Hobart and
the small girl whom by Heaven's mercy he helped to save. Her name was
Felicia--Felicia Rose Derwent Stanhope in full. Her uncle and guardian,
Sir John Derwent, came down and fetched her home, with the bodies of her
father and mother. I have told you that Dick was just then waiting for
his commission, which, by the way, his family could poorly afford t