brooding, moonlit sky, and on a sea as smooth as glass. Upon the ship,
which now lay upon her side, the siren still sent up its yells for
succour, and some brave man continued to fire rockets, which rushed
heavenwards and burst in showers of stars.

Robert remembered that the last rocket he had seen was fired at an
evening _fête_ for the amusement of the audience. The contrast struck
him as dreadful. He wondered whether there were any power or infernal
population that could be amused by a tragedy such as enacted itself
before his eyes; how it came about also that such a tragedy was
permitted by the merciful Strength in which mankind put their faith.

The vessel was turning over, compressed air or steam burst up the decks
with loud reports; fragments of wreckage flew into the air. There the
poor captain still clung to the rail of the bridge. Seymour could see
his white face--the moonlight seemed to paint it with a ghastly smile.
The officer in command of their boat shouted to the crew to give way
lest they should be sucked down with the steamer.

Look! Now she wallowed like a dying whale, the moonrays shone white upon
her bottom, showing the jagged rent made in it by the rock on which she
had struck, and now she was gone. Only a little cloud of smoke and steam
remained to mark where the _Zanzibar_ had been.




III

HOW ROBERT CAME ASHORE