War was in the very air when an event happened. It was a very ordinary event, and apparently as far removed as possible from any influence upon the question of peace or war in Europe. It was merely the arrival late in the afternoon of Monday, the 2d of September, of a fine ship flying the American flag in the harbor of Southampton. She was apparently a steamship of about 3,000 tons. She was of yacht design, and her beautiful lines were the admiration at once of all nautical eyes. The only peculiarities about her at first glance were that her single smoke-stack, rising slender and tall amidships, was quite out of proportion to the size of the ship, and that the vessel floated so high out of the water that her ballast must have been of the lightest. Only half a dozen persons besides her crew were visible when the ship came to anchor just below the new American Line dock. Two or three small boats, attracted by curiosity, put off to view the newcomer as soon as she stopped. _Mystery_ was the name they read upon her stern. The boats made a slow circuit of the beautiful ship, and the boatmen were exchanging comments upon her graceful lines when an unusual sound of rushing water came from on board. The noise came from forward, aft, and amidships all at once. The sound was a strange one, but the men in the boats paid little attention to it at first. They were admiring the nautical beauty of the big ship’s overhanging stern, and expressing surprise at the size of her twin propellers just below the surface. One of the self-appointed critics had observed that she must have an extraordinary draught when loaded, for the gauge showed more than twenty feet with apparently only light ballast on board. Suddenly the man started up in great excitement, stared at the rudder post, rubbed his eyes and looked again. “I say, boys, she’s sinking!” he exclaimed. “It was twenty feet a minute ago and now it’s twenty-one, and going deeper.” The men in the other boat looked, too. Yes, the smooth water in which the ship lay was certainly climbing quite rapidly inch by inch up her steel sides. The men in both boats seized their oars and pulled rapidly alongside the vessel. No one was visible at the rail above. There was no commotion on board, but the men in the boats now recognized the strange sounds within the ship as the noise of water rushing into the hold. They rowed up opposite the bridge and shouted lustily. Their hail was not answered at first, but presently a naval cap, heavy with gold lace, appeared over the canvas shield at the end of the bridge, and the wearer inquired lazily: “Well, what’s the matter below there?” “Your ship is foundering; you’ll sink in a few minutes if you don’t stop the leak,” was the reply, shouted back with great excitement. “Oh, I guess not,” was the still indifferent response.