At the ship’s side, a moment later, I saw the last of the line of boats discharge their loads, and saw women, some with cheap shawls about their heads, some with the costliest of fur cloaks, ascending the ship’s side. And such joy as the first sight of our ship may have given them had disappeared from their faces, and there were tears and signs of faltering as the women were helped up the ladders or hoisted aboard in swings. For lack of room to put them, several of the Titanic’s boats after unloading were set adrift. At our north was a broad icefield, the length of hundreds of Carpathias. Around us on other sides were sharp and glistening peaks. One black berg, seen about 10 A. M., was said to be that which sunk the Titanic. In his tiny house over the second cabin smoking room was Harold Cotton, the Marconi operator, a ruddy English youth, whose work at his post, on what seemed ordinary duty, until almost midnight, had probably saved the lives of the huddling hundreds below. Already he was knitting his brows over the problem of handling the messages which were coming in batches from the purser’s office. The haste with which these Marconigrams were prepared by their senders was needless, in view of the wait of two days and two nights for a long connection. “Safe” was the word with which most of the messages began; then, in many of them, came the words “---- missing.” Dishevelled women, who the night before could have drawn thousands from husbands’ letters of credit or from Titanic’s safe, stood penniless before the Carpathia’s purser, asking that their messages be forwarded--collect. Their messages were taken with the rest. HOPE REVIVED BY SIGHT OF CATTLE BOAT. The Californian, a cattle ship, came near us, and though it gave no sign of having any of the Titanic’s refugees on board, its presence in the vicinity gave hope to many women who were encouraged in the belief that the Californian might have picked up their loved ones. Captain Rostrom’s decision to abandon the Mediterranean course, begun the Thursday before, and to return to an American port, was soon known to the passengers. At first it was reported that Halifax or Boston would be the destination, but at noon the notice of the intended arrival at New York three days later was posted. At that time the Carpathia, at an increase over her usual moderate speed, was westward bound and her passengers were deferring their hopes of Gibraltar, Naples and Trieste, and were sharing their rooms with the newcomers. Few men of the Carpathia’s passenger list slept in a bed in any of the nights that followed. They had the men of the Titanic lay in chairs on deck, on dining tables or smoking-room couches, or on the floors of the rooms which held their hand baggage and their curtained-off guests. The captain was the first to vacate his room, which was used as a hospital.