Though the "Achilles" could do no more, she showed her sympathy by lingering long in the neighbourhood of the hapless vessel; till indeed the fast-nearing outline of the French coast, and an ominous line of breakers on a rocky shore, seen in glimpses between the rising and falling of watery heights, spoke of peril to both steamers. Then the "Achilles" was compelled for her own safety to stand out to sea: and the "Bristol" drifted alone.
Passengers and crew had behaved well thus far. There were several ladies among the former, and some had been much overcome: yet weeping was quiet, screaming and hysterics were unknown. Many were still suffering too severely from mal de mer to pay attention to surrounding circumstances: while others knew of the now pressing danger, and bore it calmly.
Boats were in readiness for launching; life-belts were either donned or kept at hand by a large proportion of those on board: and one gentleman had already pulled off his heavy boots, in preparation for a swim.
Among those able to be on deck were not only Jean and Jem, but also Evelyn. She had rallied from her weakness, the near peril acting as a tonic, and had insisted on leaving the cabin. It might be that a summons would soon reach all below to follow her example. Jem had helped her to his favourite corner, the most sheltered attainable: and he sat beside her, keeping careful watch over her comfort. He looked worn with his long night-watch and inward battling, but a vivid light shone in his eyes, as they drew closer to the coast. To die with Evelyn seemed to him no terrible matter; not half so terrible as to cut himself asunder from her, living.
Evelyn had her gentlest and most fragile aspect; and her large eyes watched with fascinated eagerness the rolling up and past of each great wave which tossed and heaved their boat, like a huge log, on its bosom. Yet fear was not in her face; rather a restful quiet might be found there. Jean, standing at a short distance, keeping her feet in a manner which no other woman on that sloping deck could emulate, saw this with silent wonder. She had expected more of physical fear and shrinking on Evelyn's part. Could it be, not only that to Evelyn's gentle spirit the great transition now threatening was not a matter for dread, but also that under Jem's watchful care a new content had arisen. The thought came, which strangely had never before occurred to Jean—did Evelyn love Jem?
"Another half hour, and we shall be on the rocks!" a passenger said aloud.
Evelyn heard, and her glance went in appeal to Jem.
"Hardly so soon," he answered.
"Can nothing be done?"
"The engines will be set going. I do not suppose the Captain will wait much longer."