“Well,” he rejoined, “we have but once to die. If we go down, it will soon be over; we won’t suffer long.” This was all the consolation any of us had. The water in the hold did not decrease—the storm raged with unabated fury—and the question now, was not, “Shall we go down?” but, “How soon?” It seemed but a question of time. If we had a spark of hope left, it was merely as one compared with one hundred. The mate told me it was _possible_ the ship could be kept afloat till morning, and that then it was _possible_ some vessel might be in sight and come to our assistance. But these vague possibilities were worse than no hope at all. They were too tantalizing. I should really have felt better if I had known, beyond a doubt, that we should go down in ten minutes. Still, it is natural for man to cling to any hope that is held out to him, however slight. Probably, hope, faint as it was, saved us on this occasion. Had all given up, and sat down, with the conviction that we were lost—although no one on board was really of any other opinion—the ship would have filled in an hour, and we must have gone down to our dismal graves in the depths of the Gulf Stream. In this awful extremity, I could not help remembering certain verses from Byron’s “Don Juan” which were very applicable to the occasion. I quote them: “It may be easily supposed, while this Was going on, some people were unquiet; That passengers would find it much amiss To lose their lives, as well as spoil their diet; That even the able seaman, deeming his Days nearly o’er, might be disposed to riot; As, upon such occasions, tars will ask For grog, and sometimes drink rum from the cask.    *       *       *       *       * “Then came the carpenter, at last, with tears In his rough eyes, and told the captain he Could do no more; he was a man in years, And long had voyaged through many a stormy sea, And if he wept, at length, they were not fears That made his eyelids as a woman’s be; But he, poor fellow, had a wife and children— Two things for dying people quite bewildering. “The ship was evidently settling now Fast by the head; and, all distinction gone, Some went to prayers again and made a vow Of candle to their saints—but there were none To pay them with; and some looked o’er the bow, Some hoisted out the boats: and there was one, That begged Pedrillo[3] for an absolution, Who told him to be d——d, in his confusion.” Footnote 3: Pedrillo, a licentiate who accompanied Don Juan, and was his tutor.