dropped, just as the keel cleared the bottom, and the cable being
secured at a short range, after forging ahead far enough to tighten the
hitter, the vessel tended. In swinging to her anchor, a roller came down
upon her, however; one that had crossed the reef without breaking, and
broke on board her. Mark afterwards believed that the rush and weight
of this sea, which did no serious harm, frightened the men into the
launch, where Hillson was already in person, and that the boat either
struck adrift under the power of the roller, or that the painter was
imprudently cast off in the confusion of the moment. He had got in as
far as the windlass himself, when the sea came aboard; and, as soon as
he recovered his sight after the ducking he received, he caught a dim
view of the launch, driving off to leeward, on the top of a wave.
Hailing was useless, and he stood gazing at the helpless boat until it
became lost, like everything else that was a hundred yards from the
ship, in the gloom of night. Even then Mark was by no means conscious of
the extent of the calamity that had befallen him. It was only when he
had visited cabin, steerage and forecastle, and called the crew over by
name, that he reached the grave fact that there was no one left on board
the Rancocus but Bob Betts and himself!

As Mark did not know what land was to be found to leeward, he naturally
enough hoped and expected that the people in both boats might reach the
shore, and be recovered in the morning; but he had little expectation of
ever seeing Captain Crutchely again. The circumstances, however,
afforded him little time to reflect on these things, and he gave his
whole attention, for the moment, to the preservation of the ship.
Fortunately, the anchor held, and, as the wind, which had never blown
very heavily, sensibly began to lessen, Mark was sanguine in the belief
it would continue to hold. Captain Crutchely had taken the precaution to
have the cable bitted at a short range with a view to keep it, as much