The Wreck of the Titan

from the northeast, which, added to the speed of the steamship, made, so far a

that reached the crow’s-nest on the foremast and battered the pilot-house windows on the bridge in a liquid bombardment that would have broken ordinary glass. A fog-bank, into which the ship had plunged in the afternoon, st

the names of the men who had relieved them. Backing up to the pilot-house, the officer repeated the names to a quartermaster within, who entered them in the log-b

ve the howling of the wind.” Is he the man

s,

still

s,

st, quartermaster,” said the officer; then, making a fu

nswer, shrill and

open — keep a

good

onversation — except in the line of duty — was forbidden among the bridge officers of the Titan, and his watchmate, the third officer, stood on the other side of the large bridge binnacle, only leaving this position occasionally to glance in at the compass — which seemed to be his sole duty at sea. Sheltered by one

thousand passengers had retired, leaving the spacious cabins and steerage in possession of the watchmen; while, sound asleep in his cabin abaft the chart-room

swain and his men were lighting up for a final smoke, when t

ad, sir — can’

e-room telegraph and grasped the leve

n the starboard tack — d

idge. The powerful steering-engine in the stern ground the rudder over; but before three degrees on the compass card were traversed by the lubber’s-point, a s

he shouted. “Stand from under on deck.” He turned a lever which closed compartment

l spars, sails, blocks, and wire rope. Then, in the darkness to starboard and port, two darker shapes shot by — the two halves of the ship she had cut thr

on you and your cheese-knife

by the clamor of the gale, and the steamship Titan swung back to her cour

up the steps of the br

the passengers have learned, and clear away that wreck forward as soon as possible.” The voice of the officer was hoarse