“Now this was the time when a panic would have been the most likely to arise, since it was the moment when we practically lost all hope. But, strange as it may seem, the four women at the table sat as quietly as before, and two of them, who were sisters, calmly wondered how the news of their death would be received at home. The other two were crying quietly, and spoke very little. The three sick ones, beyond an occasional moan of misery, gave no outward token of having realised their apparently speedily approaching end, and the only thing that I now longed for was that the steamer, if she was going to sink, would be quick about it, so that my misery would be at an end.” “And you were not drowned after all?” queried Annie, with a spice of mischief in her voice. “No, we were not drowned after all--but, look there, how excited all those people seem to be.” Mr. Cory and his daughter followed the direction of Mrs. Colbrook’s eyes, and saw that quite a crowd of people were gathering on the starboard bow, whence some object of interest ahead seemed to be engaging their attention. Our friends soon became members of the curious crowd, and were saddened by the spectacle pointed out to them. It was the battered and mastless hull of a derelict ship, floating on the now smooth waters, and presenting mute evidence of their whilom relentless fury.[A] [A] It may be argued by seafarers that the Bay of Biscay is out of the track of derelicts. This supposition is, upon the whole, correct. But there are exceptions to every rule, and at the time of writing there is marked in charts a derelict off Lisbon.--THE AUTHOR. Glasses were hurriedly brought into use, and countless conjectures as to the name, nationality, and experiences of the wreck were hazarded. Not a sign of life was perceptible on its deck, and it was all too evident that the crew no longer found a home in it. As to their fate, who could say what it had been? Perhaps they had been saved by some passing vessel. Perhaps they had been swept into the seething and roaring waters, their last shrieks rendered inaudible by the war of the elements. Perhaps, imagining their battered ship to be sinking, they had succeeded in taking to the boats, and might be even now floating on this billowy waste, with the pangs of hunger and thirst gnawing at their vitals, and with “water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink.” Perhaps--but why lose oneself in endless painful conjectures, since a solution of the questions that puzzle us is out of our power to arrive at?