What was that?" She clutched him nervously, for from the forward
end of the ship had come a muffled scream, like that of a woman.

"It's my poor horses," said the man, and she looked at him
curiously, prompted by the catch in his throat.

There followed a wait which seemed long, but was in reality of
but a few minutes, for the ship was sliding backward and the sea
was creeping upward faster and faster. At last they heard a
shuddering sigh as she parted from the rocks and the air rushed
up through the deck openings with greater force. The Nebraska
swung sluggishly with the tide; then, when her upper structure
had settled flush with the sea, Murray O'Neil took the woman in
his arms and leaped clear of the rail.

The first gasping moment of immersion was fairly paralyzing;
after that the reaction came, and the two began to struggle away
from the sinking ship. But the effect of the reaction soon wore
off. The water was cruelly cold and their bodies ached in every
nerve and fiber. O'Neil did his best to encourage his companion.
He talked to her through his chattering teeth, and once she had
recovered from the mental shock of the first fearful plunge she
responded pluckily. He knew that his own heart was normal and
strong, but he feared that the girl's might not be equal to the
strain. Had he been alone, he felt sure that he could have gained
the shore, but with her upon his hands he was able to make but
little headway. The expanse of waters seemed immense; it fairly
crushed hope out of him. The lights upon the shore were as
distant as fixed stars. This was a country of heavy tides, he
reflected, and he began to fear that the current was sweeping