When they stopped at Lucy’s door, Chester asked of his father if she was up.

“Yes,” he replied; “but she is not well.  How shall we tell her the evil news?”

“We must manage it somehow, for she must know—­poor little girl!”

Between them, they managed to tell Lucy of the situation they were in.  During the telling, she looked at one and then at the other in a dazed way, as if she could not believe there were any actual danger.  They repeated to her the assurances the captain had given.

“Can we go on deck?” asked Lucy at last.  “I want to get into the air where the sky is above me.”

They found a protected corner in the smoking-room where Lucy was content to sit and look out of the open door to see what was going on about the deck.  Officers were inspecting the boats to see that all were ready in case of need.  The work of the crew and the movements of the passengers were accompanied by a certain nervousness.  That the ship was slowly settling could plainly be seen by all on board.

Towards noon, the forward hatch was opened, and soon there was a rattle of chains and clang of machinery.  Then up from the hold come bales, boxes, and barrels which were unceremoniously dropped into the sea.  The cargo must go.  No help had yet been sighted, and if they were to remain afloat much longer, the ship would have to be lightened.  “What a pity to waste so much,” said some, forgetting their own peril for the moment; but human life is worth more than ships or cargos.

Very few cared to respond to the call for luncheon which the stewards bravely kept up.  The women who were too frightened to go below were served on deck, being urged to eat by solicitous friends.

All afternoon the unloading went on.  The ship moved slowly leaving a train of floating merchandise in its wake.  On the bridge the captain or one of the officers paced back and forth with glass in hand eager to catch the call of the man in the crow’s nest if he should catch sight of other vessels.  But none were seen.  The afternoon closed; darkness came on.  Then the light burned again from the bridge and the fog-horn added its din to the dreariness.

Lucy kept to her position near the open deck.  She would not go below, so wraps and pillows were brought her and she was made as comfortable as possible.  Chester remained with her most of the time, the father came and went in nervous uncertainty.  Captain Brown stopped long enough to tell Chester that since most of the cargo was overboard, they would float a little longer, but they were to be ready at any time now to leave the ship.  The boats were provisioned, it was explained, and the passengers would be allowed to take with them only what could be carried in a small bundle.  Very likely, they would not need to desert the ship before morning, so they had better rest.

But there was neither rest nor sleep that night.  Chester tucked his father into a seat, placed a pillow for his head, then, seeing that Lucy was comfortable, sat down by her.  She lifted the cover from her shoulders, and extended it to his.  It dropped to his lap also, so thus they sat in the dim glow of the electric light.  Life belts were within easy reach.