"We 're on a sort of breakwater, sir," said the second officer.
"Seems like it. Is the ship hard and fast?"
"I am afraid so."
"I think the weather is moderating. Go and see how the barometer
stands."
"Steady improvement, sir," came the report.
"Any water coming in?"
"Mr. Walker said he thought not."
"Perhaps it doesn't matter. Try to get the first life-boat lowered.
Let her carry as many extra hands as possible. We have lost two boats.
But do not send any women in her. If all is well, let them go in the
next one. Take charge of that yourself."
"Would you mind tying this handkerchief tightly just here, sir?"
The second officer held out his left forearm.
"Were you knifed, too?" asked Courtenay.
"It is not much, but I am losing a good deal of blood."
"The brutes--the unreasoning brutes!" muttered the captain. As he
knotted the linen into a rough tourniquet the other asked:
"Shall I report to you when the first boat gets away, sir?"
"No need. I shall see what happens. When she is clear I shall bring
the ladies to you."
Pride of race helped these men to talk as collectedly as if the ship
were laid alongside a Thames wharf.
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