this he found to be impracticable. As the morning broke in the cast the
gale subsided, but the sea still kept up its angry commotion, though
that too, gradually subsided, the waves growing less and less, and the
ship becoming more and more quiet, enabling those on board to keep at
least upon their feet.

In the meantime, the ship had gradually settled so that the water was
already on the cabin floor. In vain were the entreaties of the mate and
his companions for the four or five hands who had possessed themselves
of the key of the spirit room to come on deck and save themselves; they
could neither be persuaded nor forced to move, but lay in a state of
beastly intoxication. Everything had been done that was possible, to
prepare for launching the long boat, and the widow and her daughter had
already by the mate's sanction taken their seats within it, while one of
the seamen secured and carefully stored the few articles of necessity
which had been selected.

The two masts of the boat were stepped and carefully secured, the gripes
that secured the boat in its place were cut, leaving it standing upright
in its wooden bed, but entirely free from the deck of the ship. Already
had the ship sunk so low that all communication with the cabin was cut
off, and the poor inebriated wretches who had there sought oblivion in
intoxication also found their tomb. Food, water and compass were
properly disposed, so that any sudden movement of the boat should not
dislodge them, oars and sails in readiness, and a careful examination
had, lest some straggling rope might in some way connect the boat with
the wreck, so as to draw them under when the floundering mass should at
last go down. The crisis which they now expected seemed strangely
protracted, and their fearful suspense was almost unbearable. The mate
had placed one of his hands at the bows, another amidships, while