“Horrible!” she cried, wringing her hands.  “I can’t die!  I’ve never made any preparations for death.  Oh save me, Horace, if you can!  No, no save my girls, my poor dear girls, and never mind me.”

“Louise, my poor sister,” he said, deeply moved, “we will not despair yet of all being saved; but try to prepare for the worst, turn now to him who has said, Look unto me and be ye saved all ye ends of the earth.”

Virginia had thrown herself upon a sofa, in strong hysterics, and Isadore stood over her with smelling salts and fan.

Mrs. Conly hurried back to them with tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Oh what is to be done?” she sighed, taking the fan from Isa’s hand.  “If Cal and Art were but here to look after us!  Your uncle has his hands full with his daughter and her children.”

“Mamma let us ask God for help; he and he only can give it,” whispered Isadore.

“Yes, yes, ask him! you know how and he will hear you.  Virgy, my child, try to calm yourself.”

Isa knelt by her sister’s side; there were many on their knees crying for succor in this hour of terrible danger.

The storm was abating, the rain had nearly ceased to fall, and the wind to lash the waves into fury; the flashes of lightning were fewer and fainter and the heavy claps of thunder had given place to distant mutterings; they would not be wrecked by the fury of the tempest, yet alas, there still remained the more fearful danger of devouring fire.

It was a night of terror; no one thought of retiring, and few but young children closed an eye.

Every preparation was made for taking to the water at a moment’s warning; those who had life preservers—­and all our party were supplied with them—­brought them out and secured them to their persons; boats were made ready to launch, and those who retained sufficient presence of mind and forethought, selected, and kept close at hand, such valuables as it seemed possible they might be able to carry about them.

The Travillas kept together, Mr. Dinsmore with them, and young Leland also.

He was to them only an ordinary friend, but one of them he would have died to save, and almost he would have done it for the others for her sake.

Poor Molly had never felt her helplessness more than now; fastened to her chair as with bands of steel, there was less hope of escape for her than for others.

Her thoughts flew to Dick in that first moment of terror, to Dick who loved her better than any other earthly thing.  Alas, he was far away; but there was One near, her Elder Brother, who would never leave nor forsake her.  With that thought she grew calm and strong to wait and to endure.

But her uncle did not forget her; with his own hands he fastened a life preserver about her.

“My poor helpless child,” he said low and tenderly, “do not fear that you will be forgotten should there be any chance for rescue.”