course, still more serious damage had been sustained in her hull. "Shall we be able to do anything for all those poor people?" I asked of Peter, who stood near me. "No, Jack, we shall not," he answered; "man can't help them. This ship, by the look of her, will not keep above water another half-hour; and then Heaven have mercy on their souls! I doubt if the captain will venture to lower a boat in this sea to attempt to save them, or if a boat could lift if he did." "It's very dreadful," said I. "Yes, Jack; but it's the lot all sailors must be prepared for," answered Peter. "Remember, it may be my fate or yours one of these days. We should not be afraid; but I repeat it, Jack, we should be prepared." I did not quite understand Peter then. "Then, Peter, you would not go in the boat if one was lowered?" I observed. "Wait till the captain says what he wants done," he answered calmly. "If he thinks a boat can live, and wants volunteers, it's my duty to go, you know. Remember, Jack, obey first, and calculate risk afterwards." Peter's predictions as to the fate of the Spanish ship were fulfilled sooner even than he had expected. That moment, while we were looking at her, she settled lower and lower in the water; she rolled still more heavily; her bow looked as if about to rise, but instead her stem lifted high--up it went. There seemed a chasm yawning for her. Into it she plunged, and down, down she went--the waves wildly rushing over her decks, and scattering the shrieking multitude assembled on them far and wide over the foaming ocean; mothers, children, husbands, wives, lovers, and friends, the priests and their disciples, were rudely torn asunder, and sent hither and thither. Numbers went down in the vortex of the huge ship--the men at the pumps, the drunken seamen, some who had clung madly to the rigging. Others supported themselves on anything which could float; and brave swimmers struck out for dear life. "I can't stand this," cried our captain, unconscious that he was speaking aloud; "we must try at all risks to save the poor wretches." "I'll go," cried the second mate, Harry Gale, a fine, quiet, gentleman-reared young man as ever I met. "I'm one with you, Mr Gale," cried Peter Poplar, springing aft to the falls of the lee-quarter-boat, the only one which could be lowered. "Bear a hand here, mates; there'll no time to be lost!" "Hold fast!" shouted the captain. "No hurry, my men; those who go clear the boat. The mates will stand by the falls with Jackson and Farr. All ready now!--Lower away!"