nt as well as the
former Governor of Bombay upon their official tours. Now, however, he
was about to leave India in order to take up an appointment on the
staff of the 'Melbourne Argus,' and we, as a matter of mutual
convenience, offered him a passage to Australia in the 'Sunbeam,'
which he accepted, apparently, with delight. These brief facts will
account for his presence on board the 'Sunbeam.'

At luncheon to-day Mr. White was cheerful and full of conversation,
giving us an interesting description of the annual migration of the
members of the Bombay Government to Poona during the season of rains
and monsoons. We had, as usual, coffee, cigarettes, and a little
gossip on deck before recommencing our quiet occupations of reading or
writing. Mr. White strolled aft, and I soon became immersed in my
book. Suddenly I perceived a change in the vessel's movement, as if
the helmsman were neglecting his duties, and directly afterwards heard
the thrilling cry of 'Man overboard!' Of course a great commotion
ensued, the men rushing up from below, all eager to render assistance.
I ran aft, whence the cry had proceeded, seizing a life-buoy as I
passed, but found that one had already been thrown over by the man at
the helm, who exclaimed, 'That gentleman,' meaning poor Mr. White,
'has jumped overboard.' A boat was lowered, a man was sent up to the
cross-trees, another on to the deck-house to keep a look-out, and the
ship was put about in an incredibly short space of time. In the
meanwhile hasty preparation of hot bottles, blankets, and other
remedies was made on board, in case the boat should happily be
successful in her search. But although she rowed over the exact spot
many times, and picked up Mr. White's helmet and the life-buoy,
nothing more could be discovered.

[Illustration: Vingora Rocks]

The agonised interest with which that little boat was watched by all
on board will always live in my memory. Two men had jumped into her
just as they had rushed on deck, without shirts or hats to protect
them from the burning sun. Another was preparing to spring overboard
when he was forcibly restrained by Tom, who saw that it would by this
time be utterly useless. All on board worked with a will to get the
vessel round and to lower every stitch of sail; no easy matter with
every kite set, and the yacht running from ten to twelve knots before
the wind.

From letters left behind it was painfully clear that a determination
of many days