He stood before me with his knightly head uncovered, his handsome face as calm as though he were a guest at a festival instead of a patient and interested watcher at a funeral-pyre.  His birth, his breeding, his genius even, asserted themselves in that mortal hour.  He was calm, collected, serious, but not afraid.

“The peril will be great to all, of course,” he said, quietly, “but no gentleman will prefer his own safety to that of the most humble and desolate woman on the ship.  To you, Miss Harz, I devote my energies to-day, to you and these ladies of your party, whoever they may be—­,” bowing gently as he spoke.  “I may fail in delivering you from danger, but it shall not be for want of effort on my part.  Believe my words, I have less care for life than most people, and now let me offer you my escort through that maddened crowd (the rest may follow closely), to reach Miss Lamarque.”

“No, Mr. Dunmore, I must remain just where I am, I have promised myself to do so; this is much; and these unhappy women—­they, like myself, are alone, or seem to be.  Should you see fit to do so, and be willing to be so encumbered, you can return after a lapse of time; but make no point of this, I entreat you.  I think that Captain Ambrose will observe good order and save his helpless ones first.  You know he promised this—­”

There was a moment’s pause, and movement of eye and hand, and then he spoke again, very softly: 

“Yes, and much more that can never be fulfilled, for already the cabin is in flames, the companion-way is closed, and the fire in the hold is making fearful headway.  I have heard the seamen have sworn to secure the boats; you are strong and resolute—­be prepared for the very worst.”  Then, speaking in his usual tone, he added:  “Since the banner of Spain passed near enough to show us the rampant lions and castles on its crimson shield, and yet made no sign, I have had little hope of rescue from a ship.  It was ominous!”

“Not intended, then,” I said, eagerly.  “Oh, I am glad of this, at least, for the honor of human nature.”

“A strange consideration at such a time!  You are a study to me, Miss Harz; yours is not apathy, like mine, but true courage, even in this death-struggle, and I will save you if I can, for you have a noble soul!”

All further dialogue was cut short by the wild shout that rose from the crowd, the delusive cry of “A sail, a sail!” and Dunmore rushed with the rest to descry its myth-like form, if possible.  It was some moments before hope again died down to a flat level of despair.

Too remote for signal or trumpet was that distant, white-winged vessel gliding securely on its path of peace, unconscious of the extremity of the mighty steamer it distinguished dimly, no doubt, by the aid of telescopes.

However this might have been, for the second time on that day of direst exigency, a ship went by, observed yet unobserving.