"On deck all who can come, and at once," shouted the captain, in a voice of thunder, as he sprang to the companion, and led the way, the others following as best they could.
It was not easy work to move at all as one wished on this heaving, rocking and tossing hulk, with the white curd dashing over them and lifting them from their feet, yet Captain Anatole was a prompt man, even if a foolishly confident one. With frantic haste, and unaided, he seized up a coil of rope, and fastening one end to the stump of the only funnel left, he unwound the coil, and rolled the other end round his body.
"What are you going to do, comrade?" shouted the doctor in his ear.
"Do my best to reach the shore, or perish in the attempt. Hold on by the rope, and if I succeed, you shall soon know, then come on as best you can. If I fail, then farewell—I have done my best to repair my error."
"Good!" answered the doctor, and as he spoke Anatole was gone, into that vague, snowy and spurning darkness.
Twice the hulk dashed forward and drew back after a concussion that seemed annihilation; then, as she paused for the third heavy and what seemed likely to be the last charge, the doctor felt the rope become taut, Anatole had succeeded.
"Come along, all who can hold on," cried the doctor, as he went first, hand over hand along the line, careless as to who followed him so long as he escaped himself.
It was no time to faint or play the dainty coquette, and these women knew it, each had their own part to do unaided, or succumb, for the bond of com-
