For above an hour this terrible and magnificent spectacle lasted, during which not a word escaped the lips of the inmates of the boat. Their minds seemed incapable of understanding the extinction of the hope that had sustained them since sunrise, by a catastrophe so unexpected, by a horror which united the extreme of sublimity with the extreme of misfortune, and which appeared scarcely more than a vision--so unforeseen, so incredible, so illusive, so ghastly, so terrific was it. By this time the whole of the upper masts were gone, adding fuel to the interior furnace of the hull, and the three lower masts were burning stumps. Suddenly the blazing mass appeared to rise in the air; the fires went out as if by magic, and an opaque cloud, burnished a livid blue by the sunshine, floated on the water. Not for many moments after the flames had vanished came a concussion that rent the air, loud and violent as a thunder-clap among mountains. The cloud lifted, and where the vessel had been the sea was a smooth outline, reflecting only the dark shadow of the slowly-mounting smoke, and dotted here and there with black remnants of the wreck. “Mr. Holdsworth,” said the General in a faint voice, sinking backwards against a thwart, “I am dying.” His hands were pressed to his heart; he was breathing quickly and convulsively, and his face was bloodless. His exclamation broke the spell that held the others gazing in the direction of the smoke. They turned quickly, and Holdsworth jumped over to the old man and supported his head on his knee. “No, no, General; don’t say that. This is a bitter disappointment; but we believe in God’s goodness. He cannot mean that we should perish. Johnson, pour some rum into the pannikin. Mrs. Tennent, dip your handkerchief into the sea and kindly pass it here.” They put the spirit to the old man’s lip, and he drank a little, but gasped for breath when he had swallowed it and clenched his hands. They spread the wet handkerchief over his forehead and loosened his cravat. “I----I know not what this giddiness may mean,” the General stammered, while the lustre faded out of his eyes. “If it is death ... I am ready to meet it. God is merciful and good. His Son is my Redeemer ... He will take me to Himself ... how faint! how faint! But I have eaten nothing”... He ceased with a sudden gasp. “You will feel better presently,” said Holdsworth, while Mrs. Tennent took the old man’s hand and fanned his face. “The shock of the burning ship has been too great for you. But you will live to recall this time. You have as manly a heart as ever God blessed His creatures with. Don’t let it fail you now.”