The great vessel surged and rolled and plunged like a tortured animal.
The splintering of wood, the rending of plates, the shattering of glass, and above all this horrid turmoil the mighty roaring and hissing of steam!...

And the wild, gurgling cries of the frantic unfortunates who had leaped into the sea! Out of the chaos with incredible swiftness came the paralysis of despair, and out of that slowly but surely groped the never-failing courage of the men who go down to the sea in ships.

Hoarse commands lifted above the groans and prayers, and strong but shaken figures sprang with mechanical precision to the posts allotted them.

Life-boat after life-boat went down into the sea that glistened with the slanting rays of an untroubled sun, low-lying at the end of day.
Fire broke out in several places.

Down into the bowels of the ship plunged the resolute, undaunted heroes who remained behind, the chosen complement reserved for just such an emergency by the far-seeing master.
Above the hissing of steam and the first feeble cracklings of flame, rose the stentorian voice of the Captain from his post at the base of the demolished bridge.
"Fight, men! Fight! Fight! There are dying men below! Stand by! Fight for them!" He was bloody and almost unrecognizable as he stood there clutching a stanchion for support.