SIXTEEN boats were in the procession which entered
on the terrible hours of rowing, drifting and suspense.
Women wept for lost husbands and sons, sailors sobbed
for the ship which had been their pride. Men choked back
tears and sought to comfort the widowed. Perhaps, they
said, other boats might have put off in another direction.
They strove, though none too sure themselves, to convince
the women of the certainty that a rescue ship would appear.
In the distance the Titanic looked an enormous length,
her great bulk outlined in black against the starry sky, every
port-hole and saloon blazing with light. It was impossible
to think anything could be wrong with such a leviathan, were
it not for that ominous tilt downwards in the bows, where
the water was now up to the lowest row of port-holes. Presently,
about 2 A. M., as near as can be determined, those in
the life-boats observed her settling very rapidly with the
bows and the bridge completely under water, and concluded
it was now only a question of minutes before she went. So
it proved She slowly tilted straight on end with the stern
vertically upwards, and as she did, the lights in the cabins
and saloons, which until then had not flickered for a moment,
died out, came on again for a single flash, and finally went
altogether. At the same time the machinery roared down
through the vessel with a rattle and a groaning that could
be heard for miles, the weirdest sound surely that could be
heard in the middle of the ocean, a thousand miles away from
land. But this was not yet quite the end.
