From the first it was apparent that the boats and Carley rafts were insufficient to accommodate all the ship's company, yet not a man moved out of his turn. Donning lifebelts, those who were unable to take to the boats, without risk of overcrowding and endangering the lives of their messmates, prepared for their long swim, confident that help would be assuredly forthcoming to "hike them out of the ditch". "Pull clear, men!" shouted Trevannion. "Good luck!" Standing at the head of the bridge-ladder, and holding on to the stanchion-rail, for the destroyer was listing excessively, Seton watched the scene with feelings akin to admiration. For himself he cared little, or rather, in the grim excitement of the destroyer's last throes, his mind was fully occupied with the episode of the final moments. "Jump for it, Seton!" shouted the Lieutenant-Commander. Alec shook his head. "I'll stand by till you're ready, sir," he replied, proffering a life-belt to his superior. Trevannion waved it aside with a grave, gesture of refusal. To him, as captain of the ship, it seemed unbecoming that he should don the life-saving device. "Thanks," he replied. "I'm a good swimmer. I'll find something to hang on to. By Jove! Seton, the men are simply splendid." The end came with startling suddenness. With two successive reports the sorely-tried bulkheads gave way under the terrific pressure of water. In a smother of foam the riven hull sagged until bow and stern reared themselves in the air to such an extent that to Alec it seemed as if the two extremities would meet. Then, with a sickening movement, the _Bolero_ plunged to the bed of the North Sea. Seton's first sensation of the plunge was that of intense cold. The moment he felt himself off his feet he struck out to clear the wreckage. In spite of his efforts he found himself being drawn back as surely as if he were held by a chain. Down, down, down! Would the horrible descent never end? He held his breath, struggling the while to force himself to the surface. Already his lungs felt on the point of bursting. "Good heavens! I'm foul of something," was the thought that flashed through his mind. It seemed like an eternity, that slow and remorseless suffocation in the icy-cold water. His eyes were wide open, but he could see nothing. Involuntarily he gasped; an inrush of water followed; a moment of intense irritation, and then a period of utter insouciance. His senses were deserting him. In a vague sort of way he realized that he was drowning. Suddenly the downward movement was arrested. Caught by the upward rush of air from a burst compartment Seton was impelled to the surface with incredible speed. He was conscious of being shot almost clear of the water, of a rush of life-giving air into his partly water-logged lungs; then of striking out almost automatically.