an ominous rumbling and pounding from the heart of the ship--her
machinery had broken loose, and was dashing its way toward the bow,
tearing out partitions and bulkheads as it went--the stern rose
rapidly high above them; for a moment she seemed to pause there--a
vertical shaft protruding from the bosom of the ocean, and then
swiftly she dove headforemost beneath the waves.

In one of the boats the brave Lord Tennington wiped a tear from
his eye--he had not seen a fortune in money go down forever into
the sea, but a dear, beautiful friend whom he had loved.

At last the long night broke, and a tropical sun smote down upon the
rolling water. Jane Porter had dropped into a fitful slumber--the
fierce light of the sun upon her upturned face awoke her. She
looked about her. In the boat with her were three sailors, Clayton,
and Monsieur Thuran. Then she looked for the other boats, but as
far as the eye could reach there was nothing to break the fearful
monotony of that waste of waters--they were alone in a small boat
upon the broad Atlantic.





Chapter 14

Back to the Primitive