The Phoenix herald., 1879-06-14

Tn the groove, and VIII not move. The Normandy is manageable
 Like a mountain from the now dash ing, frothing water rises a huge black giant of gloom. It is not a cloud, for the quick trained sense of the skilled sailor sees only too clearly the fearful truth.
 The ship is helplessly drifting to- wards the Needles, the most dangerous and fatal rocks in the English Channel. It is but the work of a moment for the captain to seize an ax and with one blow sever the ropes. The packet sud denly swings round with a fearful crash, but 1t is too late. With dull, rumbling groan the ship strikes, and the curse that falls from the lips of Captain Hervey is hardly lost in the ter rified shriek of agony that comes from below.
 In an instant all is confusion.
 After the collision the Normandy slips from the ledge, and the water is rush. ing through the opening into the hull.
 Half clad in night garments, shriek- ing, blaspheming, praying and wonder ing, come the half-demented passengers on deck.
 There are no immediate stages of thought in an accident at sea. Iris but one step from the Eden of the dreamer to almost certain death. Over all is heard the voice of Captain Hervey.
 "Cut away the boats p
 The sailors, prompt at the word, are lowering them from the davits, when the ships carpenter appears. A bold and faithful man, he had, as his duty demanded, at the risk of his life, ex- amined the leak.
 ''She will sink in five minutes I''
 A howl like that of infuriated beasts, and the passenger pelI nell rush for the gangway- With one stride the cap tain confronts them.
 "The women and children first p he simply says, and snatching the pistol Locarby, who is beside him, holds in his belt, he draws back the lock.
 Ere a soul has stepped from the ves- sel to the boats that are now launched, a small, wiry, bald-headed man, shak ing with terror, advances from the throng crowded round the ladder and cries:
 "It's your work, Captain Hervey You overinsured the Normandy to de stroy her. You shall answer, sir, to the law for your criminal neglect, and for intended murder"
 It was not known then, but it came out afterwards, that this individual was a secret attache of one of the great un- derwriting companies of London.
 As owner of the Normandy, John Hervey had insured her heavily, far above. perhaps, what some might have considered her just value. But it must be remembered that in it and on it is his world, and who could estimate her as he did?
 " You shall answer for your crime, ;" the man repeats; but the captain, though his brow grows winter, never moves a muscle.
 Lieutenant Locarby, who superin- tends the transferral, as the first boat, scarcely loaded, leaves the ships side, asks
 !" Captain, how many ?"
 " Sixty-fifteen for each p
 There are sixty-one, but he does not count himself.
 Another of the launches with it's pre- cious cargo, rowed by lusty arms, fol- lowed its predecessor out to sea.
 The Normandy at the fore-end is now entirely beneath the water, and those on deck scarcely keep their footing. Many are the scenes of selfish terror enacted, but not man dared step into the frail hope afforded till the children and women are provided for.
 All but one-the captains wife He's ter. She refused Locarby's offered hand, and though pale as death, clings to the rail by her husband.
 My place is by his side,' she says.
 "No my love, go." he bids her; ''I shall be the last"
 {" My place is by your side," she re- peated; 1T will not go.''
 The work of authorization is con- tinued, though the Normandy has be- gun to reel like drunken man, and is slowly slipping back. Half the formast is submerged. And but four persons remain.
 The insurance agent, scowling at the white-faced captain, steps into the waiting boat. Lieutenant Locarby fol- lows.
 "Mrs. Hervey," he cried, standing up in the stern, your hand, captain p
 The packet seems to settle in the ocean like man nestling for 8 deep sleep.
 Captain Hervey does not immediately answer. A sudden rising of his arm, u SHarp IepOrts auu tue dtIdCHo 4dl4S over the thwarts, dead, bullet through his brains. He then speaks "I shall die at my post, and die as have lived, without suspicion of stain upon my good name"
 The raging waves are now playing about his feet. Hester, her head upon his bosom, has thrown her arms about his neck. A second will be fatal to all. The suction of the sinking Normandy will swamp them. Locarby, with a strong effort, pushed the launch beyond the line of danger.
 But the Lieutenant cannot turn his eyes from the fated ship, and the last of the Normandy is a loud convulsive gulp, as the wild waters meet above it's neck, and a man and woman, clasped in each others embrace, their faces turned towards heaven, sink with it slowly beneath the sea.