"Mr. Vincent," said the captain sternly, "permit me to remind you that _I_ am captain of this ship. Good afternoon, sir." The Congressman departed from the saloon exceeding wroth, breathing dire threats of legal proceedings against the line and the captain personally, but most of the passengers agreed that it would be an inhuman thing to leave the Adamant alone in mid-ocean in such terrible straits. "Why didn't they turn back, Captain Flint?" asked Mrs. General Weller. "Because, madam, every moment is of value in such a case, and we are nearer Queenstown than New York." And so the two steamships, side by side, worried their way toward the east, always within sight of each other by day, and with the rows of lights in each visible at night to the sympathetic souls on the other. The sweltering men poured water into the hold of the one and the pounding pumps poured water out of the hold of the other, and thus they reached Queenstown. * * * * * On board the tender that took the passengers ashore at Queenstown from both steamers two astonished women met each other. "Why! _Mrs.--General_--WELLER!!! You don't mean to say you were on board that unfortunate Vulcan!" "For the land's sake, Mrs. Assistant Brownrig! Is that really _you_? Will wonders never cease? Unfortunate, did you say? Mightily fortunate for you, I think. Why! weren't you just frightened to death?" "I was, but I had no idea anyone I knew was on board." "Well, you were on board yourself. That would have been enough to have killed me." "On board myself? Why, what _do_ you mean? I wasn't on board the Vulcan. Did you get any sleep at all after you knew you might go down at any moment?" "My sakes, Jane, what _are_ you talking about? _Down_ at any moment? It was you that might have gone down at any moment or, worse still, have been burnt to death if the fire had got ahead. You don't mean to say you didn't know the Adamant was on fire most of the way across?" "_Mrs.--General--Weller!!_ There's some _horrible_ mistake. It was the Vulcan. Everything depended on her bulkheads, the captain said. There was a hole as big as a barn door in the Vulcan. The pumps were going night and day." Mrs. General looked at Mrs. Assistant as the light began to dawn on both of them. "Then it wasn't the engines, but the pumps," she said. "And it wasn't the steam, but the fire," screamed Mrs. Assistant. "Oh, dear, how that captain lied, and I thought him such a nice man, too. Oh, I shall go into hysterics, I know I shall." "I wouldn't if I were you," said the sensible Mrs. General, who was a strong-minded woman; "besides, it is too late. We're all safe now. I think both captains were pretty sensible men. Evidently married, both of 'em." Which was quite true. THE DEPARTURE OF CUB MCLEAN.