This was reported to the captain, who at once set a guard over the other boats. Indeed, as yet, there was no necessity for any one to quit the ship. The boatswain, however, who had charge of the boats, followed by the fellow who had quitted the wheel, the cook, and one or two others, soon afterwards collecting some provisions, sails, compasses, tools, and other things they thought necessary, deliberately lowered her, and getting into her, veered her astern, where they remained, careless of what became of the rest of us. Such was the state of things when the sun shone forth on the ocean world. The decks, covered with women and children, and even many men lying prostrate, looked as if just swept by the shots of an enemy. Such countenances, too, of terror, agony, and despair as were exhibited, it is difficult to describe. Many had fainted, and some had actually died through fear, and lay quiet enough. Others rushed about the decks like madmen, impeding the exertions of the officers and crew, and crying out that the ship should be steered to the nearest land, and insisting on being set on shore immediately. Had the captain been a man of firmness and moral courage, to whom his officers and crew had been accustomed to look up, much of the disorder would have been prevented, and perhaps the lives of all might have been saved; but they knew him to be a bully and a coward, and the first impulse of each was to think of his own individual safety, as they knew he would do of his. Thus not one quarter of the necessary exertions were made to save the ship; indeed Mr Bell and his watch were the only part of the crew who really did any good. Most of the cabin passengers, and some of the second and steerage passengers of the English, at once came forward and offered their services to work the pumps and to hand down the water-buckets. The poorer Irish, on the other hand, would do nothing to help themselves, but sat shrieking and bewailing their cruel fate till they could shriek and cry no longer. CHAPTER EIGHT.