"Hold on then," said the man addressed, whose name was Johnnie; "when we
get clear we'll haul you in."

And, the reader may be sure, Mr. Meeson did hold on pretty tight till,
after rowing about fifty yards, the two men halted, and proceeded, not
without some risk and trouble--for there was a considerable sea
running--to hoist Mr. Meeson's large form over the gunwale of the boat.

Meanwhile, the horrors on board the doomed ship were redoubling, as she
slowly settled to her watery grave. Forward, the steam fog-horn was going
unceasingly, bellowing like a thousand furious bulls; while, now and
again, a rocket still shot up through the misty morning air. Round the
boats a hideous war was being waged. Augusta saw a great number of men
jump into one of the largest life-boats, which was still hanging to the
davits, having evidently got the better of those who were attempting to
fill it with the women and children. The next second they lowered the
after tackle, but, by some hitch or misunderstanding, not the foremost
one; with the result that the stern of the boat fell while the bow
remained fixed, and every soul in it, some forty or fifty people, was
shot out into the water. Another boat was overturned by a sea as it
settled on the water. Another one, full of women and children, got to the
water all right, but remained fastened to the ship by the bow tackle.
When, a couple of minutes afterwards, the Kangaroo went down, nobody had
a knife at hand wherewith to cut the rope, and the boat was dragged down
with her, and all its occupants drowned. The remaining boats, with the
exception of the one in which Lady Holmhurst was, and which had been got
away before the rush began, were never lowered at all, or sank as soon as
lowered. It was impossible to lower them owing to the mad behaviour of
the panic-stricken crowds, who fought like wild beasts for a place in
them. A few gentlemen and sober-headed sailors could do nothing against a