I was suddenly aware of a sound so terrifying that I had to cover my ears. At first, I thought it was a fierce gale, like those that roared across Donegal in the winter. But this was different. I put my hands down and looked around me. The other passengers had stopped screaming and sat in mute fear. It was as if we were surrounded by a wall of sound. It was then I realized this was no gale, but the sound of wailing from the poor souls still left on the ship. We were a good distance away when the ship split in two. Slowly, the stern began to sink, and we watched as if hypnotized. Within minutes, the stern had disappeared beneath the waves, and the prow of the ship was thrust upward into the sky like a contorted cathedral spire. We watched in horror as it slipped plumb straight into the sea, leaving no trace that the great ship had ever existed.

Suddenly, through the wailing, I imagined I heard a piercing scream. It sounded like a banshee—the spirit of death in Ireland—and I knew in my heart it belonged to Nora. There was no rational reason I should have known that, but my premonitions were never rational. All the familiar sensations came over me, and I knew, deep in my bones, that Nora was about to drown. I had to save her. I shot up from my seat, ignoring the protests of the passengers and crew, and peered out through the murky light in the direction from which the cry had come. Eventually, I made out the outline of a lifeboat floating nearby. A girl with long, dark hair was standing up on a seat, while a woman tried to pull her back down. I heard the screams again as the girl tried to wrestle free before she fell. I squeezed my eyes shut in terror. When I opened them, she was floating faceup in the freezing water. If it had just been a vision, I didn’t know, but I trembled with the possibility it might have been real.

“Row over there,” I screamed at the crewman in charge, pointing in the direction of Nora’s lifeboat. “Now!” I shouted. “We have to save her.”

He hesitated, while a chorus of protest arose from the passengers. “Please,” I begged. “She’s my sister. I have to save her.”

At last he gave the signal to the seamen to start rowing. He stepped up on the prow of the boat, waving his lantern as we moved slowly through the black water. The faint sound of whistles echoed in the gathering mist. I looked down at the whistle attached to my life belt and realized the sound was coming from passengers floating in the sea. Maybe one of them was coming from Nora.

“Nora!” I cried out. “Nora!”

The crewman looked at me. “She won’t last long in these waters, miss,” he said.