The Steamer

I awoke with a start, and with wavering eyes looked at the saloon
clock. I had slept for one hour only, but it appeared to me that I was
quite refreshed. My mind was strangely clear, every sense
preternaturally alert. I began to wonder what had aroused me. Suddenly
the ship shuddered through the very heart of her, and I knew that it
was this shuddering, which must have occurred before, that had wakened
me.

"Good God! We're sinking!" a man cried. He was in the next berth to
me, and he sat up, staring wildly.

"Rubbish!" I answered.

The electric lights went out, and we were left with the miserable
illumination of one little swinging oil-lamp. Immediately the score or
so persons in the saloon were afoot and rushing about, grasping their
goods and chattels. The awful shuddering of the ship continued.
Scarcely a word was spoken.

A man flew, or rather, tumbled, down the saloon stairs, shouting:
"Where's my wife? Where's my wife?" No one took the slightest notice
of him, nor did he seem to expect any answer. Even in the
semi-darkness of the single lamp I distinctly saw that with both hands
he was tearing handfuls of hair from his head. I had heard the phrase
"tearing one's hair" some thousands of time in my life, but never till
that moment had I witnessed the action itself. Somehow it made an
impression on me. The man raced round the saloon still shouting, and
raced away again up-stairs and out of sight. Everyone followed him
pell-mell, helter-skelter, and almost in a second I found myself
alone. I put on my overcoat, and my mackintosh over that, and seizing
Rosa's jewel-box, I followed the crowd.