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"Are you mad, men?" shouted Captain Harden, as the crew rushed pell-mell to the side of the vessel.

But his words were in vain; the frightened wretches heard not, heeded not. Maddened by their selfish fears, they sprang into the boats, pushing one another fiercely aside in their cowardly haste.

"Those crowded boats will never live in this surf!" exclaimed Fred, in a voice that intense excitement had almost sunk to a whisper.

Even as he spoke, the nearest boat was lifted on the crest of a monster wave. For a moment it poised on its fearful height, quivering like a reed; the next a wild shriek arose from the doomed crew, and every soul was struggling in the hissing seas. In less than a minute, to their inexpressible horror, the other boat shared the same fate! One wild, wild agonized shriek of mortal horror arose high above the storm, and then all grew still. Engulfed beneath the hissing billows, they had sunk to rise no more.

Of all the numerous crew of the good ship Mermaid, there were three persons remaining on board, the captain, Fred and Gus. Above frowned the angry sky, black and ominous; beneath, raged the angrier ocean—the tops of the white billows gleaming like snow against the murky background. Around was spread the dense, dark pall of night—an almost impenetrable wall of thick blackness. Boats and crew were alike gone. Alone they stood on the wide sea, in a sinking ship, with death staring them in every direction in the face.