Finally, the father
began:
"On the night of the collision, after seeing you safely started in
the life-boat with the last of the passengers, Captain Hawkins
thought of a small boat on the upper deck which had been overlooked
in the general scramble to get away from the doomed _Altonia_.
Shouting to me to follow him, the Captain rushed up the ladder to the
railing, and together we started to lower the boat. It was raised
about three feet above the deck, being held in position by two
supports shaped like a letter X. I had already loosened the ropes on
my side, and then tried to kick out the support nearest me. It stuck,
and finally I got down on my hands and knees thinking I could force
it out better in that position. The water was steadily pouring in at
the ship's side, and it was only a question of a few minutes before
the _Altonia_ would founder. Finally I gave one mighty push, the
support gave away, the boat came down upon me like a ton weight,--and
that was the last I knew until I awoke in a large room full of single
beds, and a kindly faced old priest told me I was in the Hospital of
San Marco, Palermo, Sicily.
"My God, the shock when I found that my sleep,--for such it was to
me,--had lasted over twenty-three years! What thoughts went through
my mind! Had you, Alice, been saved or lost? If saved, were you still
living, and my son, whom I had never seen, was he living? Were Aunt
Ella and my father and mother and my sisters still alive? I was
roused from my revery by the good Father Paolo.
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