vessel from the rock would have been simply to founder.

The cattle, on whom the water was gaining in the hold, were lowing
piteously.

Clubin issued orders:

"Launch the long boat."

Imbrancam and Tangrouille rushed to execute the order. The boat was
eased from her fastenings. The rest of the crew looked on stupefied.

"All hands to assist," cried Clubin.

This time all obeyed.

Clubin, self-possessed, continued to issue his orders in that old sea
dialect, which French sailors of the present day would scarcely
understand.

"Haul in a rope--Get a cable if the capstan does not work--Stop
heaving--Keep the blocks clear--Lower away there--- Bring her down stern
and bows--Now then, all together, lads--Take care she don't lower stern
first--There's too much strain on there--Hold the laniard of the stock
tackle--Stand by there!"

The long boat was launched.

At that instant the Durande's paddles stopped, and the smoke ceased--the
fires were drowned.

The passengers slipped down the ladder, and dropped hurriedly into the
long boat. Imbrancam lifted the fainting tourist, carried him into the
boat, and then boarded the vessel again.

The crew made a rush after the passengers--the cabin boy was knocked
down, and the others were trampling upon him.

Imbrancam barred their passage.

"Not a man before the lad," he said.

He kept off the sailors with his two black arms, picked up the boy, and
handed him down to the Guernsey man, who was standing upright in the
boat.

The boy saved, Imbrancam made way for the others, and said:

"Pass on!"

Meanwhile Clubin had entered his cabin, and had made up a parcel
containing the ship's papers and instruments. He took the compass from
the binnacle, handed the papers and instruments to Imbrancam, and the
compass to Tangrouille, and said to them:

"Get aboard the boat."

They obeyed. The crew had taken their places before them.

"Now," cried Clubin, "push off."

A cry arose from the long boat.

"What about yourself, Captain?"

"I will remain here."

Shipwrecked people have little time to deliberate, and not much for
indulging in tender feeling. Those who were in the long boat and in
comparative safety, however, felt an emotion which was not altogether
selfish. All the voices shouted together:

"Come with us, Captain."

"No: I remain here."

The Guernsey man, who had some experience of the sea, replied:

"Listen to me, Captain. You are wrecked on the Hanways.