She felt the tremulous shake which announced that the ship was loosed from her moorings, and being tugged down the river.

She wrapped herself up once more, and came on deck, and sat down among the many who were looking their last look at England.

The early winter evening was darkening in, and shutting out the Welsh coast, the hills of which were like the hills of home.

She was thankful when she became too ill to think and remember.
Exhausted and still, she did not know whether she was sleeping or waking; or whether she had slept since she had thrown herself down on her cot, when suddenly, there was a great rush, and then Edward stood like lightning by her, pulling her up by the arm.
"The ship is on fire--to the deck, Maggie! Fire! Fire!" he shouted, like a maniac, while he dragged her up the stairs--as if the cry of Fire could summon human aid on the great deep.

And the cry was echoed up to heaven by all that crowd in an accent of despair.
They stood huddled together, dressed and undressed; now in red lurid light, showing ghastly faces of terror--now in white wreaths of smoke--as far away from the steerage as they could press; for there, up from the hold, rose columns of smoke, and now and then a fierce blaze leaped out, exulting--higher and higher every time; while from each crevice on that part of the deck issued harbingers of the terrible destruction that awaited them.
The sailors were lowering the boats; and above them stood the captain, as calm as if he were on his own hearth at home--his home where he never more should be.