THE VIZIER OF THE
TWO-HORNED ALEXANDER
I
WAS on a French steamer bound from Havre to New York, when I had a peculiar experience in the way of a shipwreck. On a dark and foggy night, when we were about three days out, our vessel collided with a derelict—a great, heavy, helpless mass, as dull and colorless as the darkness in which she was enveloped. We struck her almost head on, and her stump of a bowsprit was driven into our port bow with such tremendous violence that a great hole—nobody knew of what dimensions was made in our vessel.
The collision occurred about two hours before daylight, and the frightened passengers who crowded the upper deck were soon informed by the officers that it would
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