Presently Holdsworth came out of the hold, wet and exhausted, followed by the carpenter in worse plight. “Well?” exclaimed the captain, in a subdued but eager voice. “I am afraid it is a hopeless case, sir. She’s leaking in a dozen different places.” “The worst leak is just amidships,” said the carpenter. “It’s under the water in the hold. You can hear it bubbling, but there’s no getting at it.” “What soundings have you got?” “Eleven feet, sir!” “Good God!” cried the skipper; “that’s an increase of a foot and a half since seven bells.” “We had better look to the boats, sir,” said Holdsworth, scanning the horizon. “Don’t talk of the boats yet, sir!” panted the skipper. “Clap some backstays on to the fore-mast and turn to and rig up the spare staysail.” “Ay, ay, sir,” answered Holdsworth, and went forward to call all hands and make what sail they could upon the stump of the fore-mast, whilst the skipper walked passionately to and fro, perfectly conscious of the hopelessness of their situation, but determined to blind his eyes to it. The first among the passengers to come on deck was the General, who stood transfixed by the spectacle of the wreck. He and some of the others had attempted during the night to leave their berths and find out the reason of the uproar that was going on over their heads, but had been literally blown back again the moment they showed their noses above the hatchway; and none of them, with the exception of Mrs. Tennent, having had an opportunity of speaking to either the captain or Holdsworth, they were all in perfect ignorance that the vessel was actually a wreck. Whilst the General stood gasping and staring up aloft in search of the majestic masts and sails that had reared their graceful heights when he was last on deck, he was joined by Mr. St. Aubyn and Mr. Holland, both of whom turned pale with amazement and fear. Then all three of them ran up to the captain. “Oh, tell us what has happened? What will become of us? Are we sinking?” cried the actor. “Where are the masts gone? Is it possible that we can ever reach America in this condition?” gasped Mr. Holland. “Captain, we seem to be in a frightful mess! Why, we are foundering, sir!” exclaimed the General, rolling his eyes over the sea and then fixing them upon the captain. “Gentlemen! gentlemen!” returned the skipper, extending his hands, “pray leave me! You distract me by your questions.” “Are we in danger?” implored Mr. St. Aubyn. “Yes, sir; can’t you see?” answered the skipper fiercely. “Is it possible?” stammered Mr. St. Aubyn, turning deadly pale. “It is possible!” cried the skipper scornfully. “But I hope you are not going to be afraid, sir. Look over the break of the poop and you’ll see the men pumping for their lives. Danger is one thing, and drowning is another. I beg, sir, that you will control your fears. Panics are easily created, and you will remember, please, that we have women among us.”