J. Bruce Ismay, managing director of the International Mercantile Marine Company, owners of the White Star Line, was sitting in the cafe chatting to some friends when the liner ran upon the berg. He was the first one informed by Captain Smith. Ismay rushed to the deck to look at the berg. “THE SHIP CANNOT SINK.” “The ship cannot sink,” was the reply which he gave, with smiling assurance, to all inquirers. Nevertheless, there are survivors who say that Ismay was one of the passengers of the lifeboats which put off. They saw him enter the boat. By 1.30 o’clock the great vessel, which only a short time before had been the marvel of the twentieth century, was a water-logged hulk. Panic was steadily growing. The word had been passed around that the ship was doomed. The night continued calm. The sea was smooth. The moon was brilliant in the sky. Into one of the last of the lifeboats that were launched two Chinamen, employed in the galley, had hidden themselves. They were stretched in the bottom of the boat, face downward, and made no sound. So excited were the women that they did not notice the presence of the Chinese until the boat had pulled off from the Titanic. Then the officer in charge drew his revolver and shot both to death. The bodies were tumbled overboard. The weather was very cold and the sea was filled with floating ice. All were warned before getting into the boats to dress as warmly as possible. By the time the boats were filled the water had entered the engine-room and the ship was drifting helplessly. About 2 o’clock Captain Smith, who had been standing upon the bridge with a megaphone to his mouth, again went to the wireless cabin. “Men,” he said to Phillips and Bride, with a break in his voice, “you have done your full duty. You can do no more. Abandon your cabin, for it is now every man for himself.” Bride left the cabin, but Phillips still clung to his key. He perished. The saving of Bride, the second wireless man, was only one of a series of thrilling escapes. Wearing a life belt, Bride went upon deck. He saw a dozen men passengers tugging at a collapsible boat trying to work it to the edge of the deck. BRIDE SWEPT OVERBOARD. The wireless man went to their assistance and they had got it nearly to the point from which they could swing it over, when a wave rolled over the deck. Bride, who had hold of an oar lock, was swept overboard with the boat. The next thing he knew he was struggling in the water beneath the boat. The icy water struck a chill through him. He realized that unless he got from beneath the boat he would drown. Diving deeply, he came up on the outside of the gunwale and grasped it. On every hand was wreckage of all kinds and struggling men who had been washed overboard by the submerging comber. Bride clung to the craft until he saw another boat near by. Exerting all his strength, he swam to this boat and was pulled in it more dead than alive.