Out of this door, just ahead of a volume of smoke or steam, dashed one of his officers. Ruth, who had got out of the reclining chair as quickly as her injured shoulder would allow, saw that this excited man was Dykman.
“An explosion in the boiler room, sir!” he cried, loud enough for everybody in the vicinity to hear him. “The engines are out of commission and I think the ship is sinking.”
It seemed as though any ship’s officer with good sense would have told the commander privately of the catastrophe. But immediately the full nature of the disaster was made known to the excited and terrified passengers.
“My heavens, Dykman!” squealed Captain Hastings, “you don’t mean to say it is a torpedo? We’ve seen no periscope.”
“I don’t know what it is; but the whole place is full of steam and boiling water. We could not see the entire extent of the damage; but the water——”
He intimated that the water was coming in from the outside. Then, suddenly, the bugles and bells began, all over the ship, to signal the command for “stations.” The engines had stopped and the steamship began to rock a little, for there was quite a swell on. Some of the passengers began screaming again. They thought the Admiral Pekhard was already going down.
The tramp of men running along the decks, the shouts of the officers, and the continued screaming of some of the passengers created such a pandemonium that Ruth was confused. She knew that Captain Hastings had leaped to the bridge ladder and was now giving orders through a trumpet regarding the preparation of the boats for lowering.
One gang of men was unlashing the large motor boat and carrying davit ropes to it. That was the captain’s boat, and it would hold at least forty of the ship’s company.
Ruth began to wonder what boat she would go in. She realized that she was quite alone—that there was nobody to aid her. Tom had foreseen this. He had wished to accompany her across the ocean to be able to aid her if necessity arose.
And here was necessity!