Few among these rough sailors had ever given thought to the future.

They had lived from hand to mouth, the demands of a hard and dangerous profession alternating with bouts of foolish revelry.

Most of them had looked on death in the tempest, in the swirling seas, in the uplifted knife.

But then, there was always a chance of escape, an open door for the stout heart and ready hand; whereas, under present conditions, there was nothing to be done but pray, or curse, or wait in stoic silence until the first ominous quiver ran through the swift-moving ship.

So, all unknowingly, they grouped themselves according to their nationalities, for the Latins knelt and supplicated the saints and the Virgin Mother, the Celts roared insensate threats at the islanders who had thrown them into the very jaws of eternity, and the Saxons stood motionless, with grim jaws and frowning brows, disdaining alike both frenzied appeal and useless execration.
Someone threw a cork jacket over the girl's shoulders, and bade her fasten its straps around her waist.