"Oh, I know my way about," answered the modest Spinner.
The captain kept the gla.s.ses glued to his eyes. Suddenly he almost let them drop.
"My G.o.d! Johnson," he cried.
"What is it, sir?"
"_She"s_ flying a signal of distress, _too_!"
The two steamers slowly approached each other and, when nearly alongside and about a mile apart, the bell of the Adamant rang to stop.
"There, you see," said young Spinner to the Boston girl, "she is flying the same flag at her masthead that we are."
"Then she belongs to the same line as this boat?"
"Oh, certainly," answered Mr. c.o.c.k-Sure Spinner.
"Oh, look! look! look!" cried the enthusiastic Indianapolis girl who was going to take music in Germany.
Everyone looked aloft and saw running up to the masthead a long line of fluttering, many-colored flags. They remained in place for a few moments and then fluttered down again, only to give place to a different string. The same thing was going on on the other steamer.
"Oh, this is too interesting for anything," said Mrs. a.s.sistant. "I am just dying to know what it all means. I have read of it so often but never saw it before. I wonder when the captain will come down. What does it all mean?" she asked the deck steward.
"They are signalling to each other, madam."
"Oh, I know _that_. But what _are_ they signalling?"
"I don"t know, madam."
"Oh, see! see!" cried the Indianapolis girl, clapping her hands with delight. "The other steamer is turning round."
It was indeed so. The great ship was thrashing the water with her screw, and gradually the masts came in line and then her prow faced the east again. When this had been slowly accomplished the bell on the Adamant rang full speed ahead, and then the captain came slowly down the ladder that led from the bridge.
"Oh, captain, what does it all mean?"
"Is she going back, captain? Nothing wrong, I hope."
"What ship is it, captain?"
"She belongs to our line, doesn"t she?"
"Why is she going back?"
"The ship," said the captain slowly, "is the Vulcan, of the Black Bowling Line, that left Queenstown shortly after we left New York. She has met with an accident. Ran into some wreckage, it is thought, from the recent storm. Anyhow there is a hole in her, and whether she sees Queenstown or not will depend a great deal on what weather we have and whether her bulkheads hold out. We will stand by her till we reach Queenstown."
"Are there many on board, do you think, captain?"
"There are thirty-seven in the cabin and over 800 steerage pa.s.sengers,"
answered the captain.
"Why don"t you take them on board, out of danger, captain?"
"Ah, madam, there is no need to do that. It would delay us, and time is everything in a case like this. Besides, they will have ample warning if she is going down and they will have time to get everybody in the boats. We will stand by them, you know."
"Oh, the poor creatures," cried the sympathetic Mrs. Second-Adjutant.
"Think of their awful position. May be engulfed at any moment. I suppose they are all on their knees in the cabin. How thankful they must have been to see the Adamant."
On all sides there was the profoundest sympathy for the unfortunate pa.s.sengers of the Vulcan. Cheeks paled at the very thought of the catastrophe that might take place at any moment within sight of the sister ship. It was a realistic object lesson on the ever-present dangers of the sea. While those on deck looked with new interest at the steamship plunging along within a mile of them, the captain slipped away to his room. As he sat there there was a tap at his door.
"Come in," shouted the captain.
The silent Englishman slowly entered.
"What"s wrong, captain," he asked.
"Oh, the Vulcan has had a hole stove in her and I signalled----"
"Yes, I know all that, of course, but what"s wrong _with us_?"
"With us?" echoed the captain blankly.
"Yes, with the Adamant? What has been amiss for the last two or three days? I"m not a talker, nor am I afraid any more than you are, but I want to know."
"Certainly," said the captain. "Please shut the door, Sir John."
Meanwhile there was a lively row on board the Vulcan. In the saloon Capt. Flint was standing at bay with his knuckles on the table.
"Now what the devil"s the meaning of all this?" cried Adam K. Vincent, member of Congress.
A crowd of frightened women were standing around, many on the verge of hysterics. Children clung, with pale faces, to their mother"s skirts, fearing they knew not what. Men were grouped with anxious faces, and the bluff old captain fronted them all.
"The meaning of all _what_, sir?"
"You know very well. What is the meaning of our turning-round?"
"It means, sir, that the Adamant has eighty-five saloon pa.s.sengers and nearly 500 intermediate and steerage pa.s.sengers who are in the most deadly danger. The cotton in the hold is on fire, and they have been fighting it night and day. A conflagration may break out at any moment.
It means, then, sir, that the Vulcan is going to stand by the Adamant."
A wail of anguish burst from the frightened women at the awful fate that might be in store for so many human beings so near to them, and they clung closer to their children and thanked G.o.d that no such danger threatened them and those dear to them.
"And dammit, sir," cried the Congressman, "do you mean to tell us that we have to go against our will--without even being consulted--back to Queenstown?"
"I mean to tell you so, sir."
"Well, by the G.o.ds, that"s an outrage, and I won"t stand it, sir. I must be in New York by the 27th. I won"t stand it, sir."
"I am very sorry, sir, that anybody should be delayed."