We got out of range of their batteries, and the last fire on board extinguished before we stopped to transfer our wounded to some of the Destroyers, to be rushed back to the Base. A battered Motor Launch came alongside and I recognised the number painted on her bows. It was Armitage's boat. I went to the gangway and hailed her. A Volunteer Reserve Sub. with a bandage round his smoke-begrimed face, standing by the wheel, raised his arm.
"Armitage?" I shouted. The boy shook his head and climbed inboard. They were passing the wounded down to be transferred to one of the Destroyers laying off.
"Where is he?" I asked. The youngster jerked his thumb towards the launch's tiny cabin. "Aft," he said, in the dull tone of utter exhaustion of body and emotions.
"Five times he was hit an' he wouldn't budge.... Kneeling in a pool of blood for'ard givin' directions.... Got the last man from Determination aboard and he said 'Finish,' and rolled over in a heap. Just that one word, 'Finish.'" The dead man's second in command stood with his face working. "Oh, God!" he said; "he was a man, he was a man!"
We resumed our voyage with four Destroyers to screen us, and the dawn broke chill and wan; a mist closed down upon us like a pall as the light strengthened.
Jervis was below having a wounded eye dressed and I was alone, but for the Quartermaster, on the wreckage of the bridge; but presently I saw Milsom, with a bandaged arm in splints and a cigar stuck truculently in the corner of his mouth, climbing stiffly up the ladder.
"Jakes is all right," he said, as he joined me beside the rail.
"Yes," I said. "Hasn't got a scratch. Only got a sniff of gas—but he'll shake that off in a few hours. The Destroyers say that those Motor Launches saved all the officers and most of the men from the blockships. How's the arm?"
"Bit stiff. Broken in two places." Milsom leaned against the rail and took a deep breath. "But I'm still alive." He repeated the sentence and stared at the dim outline of one of our escort just visible through the mist. His tone was like that of a man awakening from sleep. "Oh, damn it!" he said. "No, no," ... and then he turned abruptly and faced me. "Look here, Bill," he said, "I was going to play the rottenest trick a man ever was tempted to stoop to." He was talking as if he was in a desperate hurry, the words coming in a rush. "This is a funny time to tell a love story, in all conscience, but I—I—d'you remember that girl, Miss Mayne? I've never looked at a woman in my life till I saw her. She wasn't in love with me, but I made her say she'd marry me....
"Oh, I understand her, Bill, as no other man alive could.... I tell you, I could read every thought that was in her head—and knowing that, I was going to take her. I told myself I had every right to if I could, and she was mine—just made for me, body and mind and soul. I'm telling you this now—you've never heard me talk like this before, Bill, and God knows you never will again.... Don't stare like that, old thing. I'm not light-headed—I'm telling you all this, because I—I know who the other man is. You've got to help him find her again and patch up their silly squabble and make her happy—happier than ever I could. And I understood her better five minutes after I'd first set eyes on her than he will with her lying in his arms——"