For some reason never
ascertained, though it was believed that the men in the leading boat
were too anxious to clear the falls and failed to take the proper
precautions, the heavy craft pitched stern foremost into the sea. She
sank like a stone, and with her went a number of Chileans; their
despairing yells, coming up from the churning froth, seemed to be a
signal for the demoniac passions latent in the crew to burst forth
again, this time in a consuming blaze that would not be stayed. Each
man fought blindly for himself, heedless now of all restrictions. The
knowledge of this latest disaster spread with amazing rapidity. Up
from the saloon came a rush of stewards and others. Overborne in the
panic-stricken flight, Gray, Tollemache, Christobal, the French Count
and the head steward, not knowing what new catastrophe threatened,
brought Mr. Somerville and the almost inanimate women with them,
leaving to their fate those who, like Boyle, were unable to move. Some
of the mob rushed up the bridge companion; others made for the after
ladders used only by sailors; others, again, swung themselves to the
spar deck by the rails and awning standards.
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