XVIITWO RESCUES—AND TWO GIRLS
THE turning of the steamer appeared to take an interminable time, especially to the only two members of the Cultus party who knew that Paul was overboard. The passengers watched the great curve of foam left behind as the huge monster crept around in its course. Then whispers were heard, irrepressible, nervous whispers from people who could not keep still, and who jerked their hands up and down as if they themselves were in a dilemma.
“We’ll never find ’em, never! We’re only getting further off! Will she never turn round? We’re miles away now! Why don’t they steer straight for where they are?”
“I wish I had my hands on that wheel, I’d yank her around in a jiffy.” This critic was judging by a cruise he had made in a cat-boat on Barnegat Bay.
“I hope they’ve got them preservers hitched up high,” quoth a kind, thoughtful old dame, wearing a knitted hood and shawl crosswise. “It’s awful important not to be top-heavy in the sea, nor to swallow too much water; it’s awful salt, you know”—this kind suggestion the result of experience in a surf bath at Atlantic City.
The boatswain’s whiskers surrounded a capacious grin as he listened to this sagacious advice, while at the same time he was watching the great semicircle of foam change to a horseshoe curve, the two ends converging toward a point in the open. He took a shy glance towards the bridge, observing what was going on there, and then called out:
“Keep a lookout for’ard! Who’s got the best eyes?”
All strained their necks to catch a glimpse ahead.
The vessel had by this time veered and was ploughing back in a direct course. Suddenly a beam of light shot out from above the bridge, illuminating far ahead, penetrating the moonlight, making objects on the surface distinctly visible.
“The search light! The search light!” and a burst of cheers went forth loud enough to be heard a long distance.
“Give ’em another, boatswain!” exclaimed the Barnegat critic.
“Those fellows ain’t deaf, give ’em another, boatswain!” This from the thoughtful hood and shawl.
The old salt looked disgusted, for he had not taken part in this demonstration, but the advisory committee took it up at once, cheering again and again, as if the rescue depended upon the noise they made.
Adele put her arm in Frank Winchester’s and drew her away towards one of the life boats amidship. The boat was already manned, waiting to be lowered at the right time.
Professor Cultus and the Doctor were standing near these boats, when Adele touched the latter on the shoulder.
He turned quickly, something in her manner impressed him, and he drew her aside.
“Please go in that boat, Doctor Wise.”
“What, you wantmeto go?”
“Yes, by all means.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Oh, but you will, if you’ll only go.”
“But there’s no reason for my going.”
“Yes, there is. Don’t ask me, but go, please, you really ought to go.”
“Ought, ought to?” repeated the Doctor curious, very thoughtful.
Now Doctor Wise had already learned that the first man overboard was Mr. Onset, the very man he had frightened by his amateur mental science treatment. Could the hysteriahave returned in some new form? Was it no cure after all? Could the man have attempted suicide? If so, didn’t he himself have some personal responsibility from tampering with such a case? He should have left it for regular treatment. A successful cure would probably have brought no such adverseconsequences as this; but if unsuccessfulwho would be to blame? At any rate he was now identified with Onset on board that ship and could not remain passive in such an emergency, even if the ship’s crew could do the work better.
Such thoughts rushed through the Doctor’s mind when Adele told him he ought to go with the rescue party, as he supposed, to help Onset.
An executive officer was superintending the boat close by, when Doctor Wise approached and asked nervously:
“Where is the physician of the ship?”
“With the next boat ahead.”
“Then I should like to go with this one.”
“Contrary to all rules,” said the officer, sharply.
Adele overheard this and before Doctor Wise decided what to do she had the executive officer by the sleeve, holding on firmly.
He politely but forcibly told her to let go and keep cool, but she would not, not until she drew herself near enough to whisper in his ear. If he could have seen her eyes he would have listened even more quickly than he did, but she made her voice speak from her heart.
Those close by only heard the first words, “Doctor Wise will be of the greatest use, he——” the rest in an undertone.
Several of the self-constituted advisory critics at once volunteered the opinion that two doctors were not too many for two men overboard. The title “Doctor” carried its own weight and the rush of events prevented any questions.
Miss Winchester meanwhile had worked her way through the crowd to the side of the vessel and was straining every nerve to discover the whereabouts of the two men struggling in thewater. No doubt they had been sighted already by the officers on the bridge, because the speed of the vessel had been slackened and the search light kept in a definite direction, but Frank wanted to see them with her own eyes, alive and kicking, if possible, especially the kicking, to make sure they were alive. She thought she saw them, then knew she did not; she put up her hands to look through the fingers curved to form binoculars, but this was no better. Then eagerly looking around she spied a pair of glasses in the hands of a lady. “Oh, excuse me, just a minute!” and without waiting for a response, took the glasses without ceremony. Mrs. Thorn let her keep the glasses, but watched her excited fingers attempting to focus them in the dim light.
The speed was now so much less that boats could be lowered, ready to be let adrift at a moment’s notice. Miss Winchester saw the Doctor in the second boat, then noticed a small white spot in the distance upon the surface of the sea, and while struggling to focus those “obstinate glasses” on the white spot only made matters worse. Annoyed, clumsy just when most anxious and impatient, she pressed her lips together to steady her usually strong nerves, almost biting the end of her tongue, and lo! the glasses were all right, and into vision sprang the white spot, a life preserver supporting some one waving a handkerchief; one end of it was in his teeth and the other corner was held at full length, not at all unlike a flag of truce or a “peace-flag” amid all the commotion and excitement.
“Oh, Adele, I see them! He doesn’t seem to mind it in the least.”
“Both?” asked Adele, eagerly.
“Yes! no! yes!—I can’t make out what he’s got. Yes, two! I think so.”
“They’re both there, ma’am,” said a sailor, respectfully. “The Captain gave orders for each boat to bring a man. He’s seen ’em ’way back.”
The boats were cast off; they rose and fell upon the undulationsof the mighty deep, now more impressive than when traversed at the more rapid speed. The tiny boats ascended to the summits of the white-crested waves and then were hidden in the deep valleys of the dark sea. Paul, fluttering his little white flag, rose and fell with them. They approached each other with the movements of a stately minuet upon the ocean. The fixed lights in the heavens above and the creeping search light of man below illumined the scene.
When Doctor Wise recognized Paul it gave him an icy chill down the middle of his back. It will never be known which was really experiencing the worst chill at the instant, the Doctor or Paul. However, the Doctor managed to shake himself back into a normal condition, then stood up in the boat and motioned with a peculiar movement, knowing Paul would recognize one of their private signals. Paul did recognize it and gave the reply. The Doctor then felt in his hip pocket for his whiskey flask—it was all right—and then waited until the boat was near enough to throw a line; Paul seized it.
The rescued Mr. Warder was found floating in a circular life preserver as serenely as a duck in a pond. He held Onset tightly with one arm, while Onset clung to him with both, though safe enough if he could but have realized it. There was nothing tragic whatever about either of them, except Onset’s state of mind, which he showed by his convulsed clasp of Paul.
Paul had taken a great risk, from the popular point of view, but in so doing had trusted to the good faith of others to aid him and had not been deceived. Without formulating these facts in his own mind on the instant, he had acted nevertheless upon the presumption that the science of navigation was able to meet such a case, and he had faith in human nature when embodied in sincere men. He had trusted the truth, and that had made him free to act for the best, as he saw it; and all this spontaneously, because he had the courage of such convictions ingrained in his character.