He had notice served that on account of possible danger from pirates there would be a general boat drill on the following day—not merely for the crew, but for everyone. He gave a little talk about it in the saloon after dinner, and worked his audience up to quite a pitch of enthusiasm. This would be better than any amateur theatricals, he insisted. Everyone was to act exactly as though in a sudden calamity. They might make up the boat-parties on the basis of congeniality if they wished; five minutes would be given for reaching the stations, without panic or disorder. They should prepare themselves as though they were actually going to leave a sinking ship.
The passengers were delighted with the idea of this novel entertainment. Every soul on board—with the exception of Captain Scottie, who had locked himself in and refused to be disturbed—was properly advertised of the event.
The following day, fortunately, was clear and calm. At noon Gissing blew the syren, fired a rocket from the bridge, and swung the engine telegraph to STOP. The ship's orchestra, by his orders, struck up a rollicking air. Quickly and without confusion, amid cries of Women and children first! the passengers filed to their allotted places. The crew and officers were all at their stations.
Gissing knocked at Captain Scottie's cabin.
“We are taking to the boats,” he said.
“Goad!” cried the skipper. “Wull it be a colleesion?”
“All's clear and the davits are outboard,” said Gissing. He had been studying the manual of boat handling in one of the nautical volumes in the chart-room.
“Auld Hornie!” ejaculated the skipper. “We'll no can salve the specie! Make note of her poseetion, Mr. Gissing!” He hastened to gather his papers, the log, a chronometer, and a large canister of tobacco.
“The Deil's intil't,” he said as he hastened to his boat. “I had yon pragmateesm of yours on a lee shore. Two-three hours, I'd have careened ye.”
Gissing was ready with his megaphone. From the wing of the bridge he gave the orders.