Part 40 (1/2)

”I'll kill any man on this deck who tries to go over until the last woman is taken care of!” shouted Senby, drawing a revolver.

Some of the nurses still demurred, but the master was obdurate.

”Ladies,” he called out, ”this craft can't keep afloat much longer. Those of you who hang back keep the men from their last chance to get away. I tell you, and I mean it, that no man stirs over the side until the last woman is on her way to a boat. Don't hold us all back, ladies!”

That swept aside the last reluctance of the nurses. They trooped forward, to one side gangway or the other, and were quickly on their way into the waiting boats.

One of them, however, drew back, then smiled and crossed the deck.

”I shall remain with you, Dave,” announced a clear, firm voice, and Dave turned to find Belle's steady hand resting on his arm.

”Are you going over the side, madam?” inquired Captain Senby, pleadingly.

”You must make an exception in my case, sir,” Belle Darrin answered smilingly. ”I can hardly be expected to leave my husband at a time like this.”

”Oh!” gasped the Briton, understandingly. ”Madam, you make me anxious, but your devotion makes me proud of your s.e.x!”

”Men, now!” shouted the Briton when he saw the last skirt flutter at the top of a companionway.

”Now, you'll go over the side, sir, won't you?” asked the master, anxiously, as two orderly files of men stepped to the sides.

”As the two commanders here,” Dave answered, easily, ”I believe that tradition requires you and me to go over last of all, Captain Senby.”

”But your wife, sir----”

”Is an American, Captain, who has taken the oath of service to her country's flag just as you and I have done.”

”But, madam, you----” began the Briton, turning to Belle.

”My husband has spoken, sir,” smiled Belle. ”Surely, Captain Senby, you do not believe in mutiny.”

The soldier patients who had remained behind when the nurses went over the side were all men who could walk without a.s.sistance. These were now going over, too. While this was going on the chief mate and the boatswain had mustered the last of the crew and the roll had been called. All were on hand who were not in the small boats.

After the soldiers and the hospital men had gone down into boats, and other small craft had moved in to replace them, the crew went over, the chief mate being the last to go except the trio who stood in the middle of the upper deck.

”There's a boat left with room for all of you!” the mate called, lifting his hat.

With a last swift look around at the s.h.i.+p he had loved, the Briton almost reluctantly followed the Darrins. His legs trembled under him a bit as he descended the steps of the side companionway, but it was from neither exhaustion nor fear.

Last of all the Briton took his seat in the row-boat. He tried to clear his throat and give the order, but could not speak.

”Shove off!” called Dave to the boat-tenders, as he faced the men sitting with their oars out. ”Give way! One, two, one two!”

The boat belonged to one of the mine-sweepers. With true British precision and rhythm the men pulled away. Darrin ceased counting and turned to his smiling wife.

”Not such a bad time, was it?” he asked.

”As it turned out, no. But I was afraid, Dave. Had a few hundred of the brave fellows been drowned, the horror would not have left me as long as I lived.”