“There’s a convoy or something,” said the young woman.
The captain was interested. “Probably coastwise ships coming down from England. Six of them, aren’t there?... And see all those other little boats in there. Must be close to the harbor.”
“We’re slowing down.... See, there’s that little boat like a tug with a cannon up in front. It’s signaling us.”
“Pilot, probably.”
The vessel lost headway and everybody watched the pilot come aboard as if it were some strange phenomenon—as it was to all but a few.
“I wonder if we’ll be allowed to cable home that we have arrived?... What do you think, Captain Ware?”
“Haven’t the least idea in the world. Don’t see why not, though, Miss Knox.... War Department ’tends to it for us.”
“My people will be terribly worried until they hear I am safe, and then they’ll keep on being worried until I’m back in New York again.... I’m going to sit down. Come on.”
Maude Knox’s tone approached the proprietary, not that she had asserted any permanent claim to Captain Ware, but only those property rights in transitu which arise even in war-time aboard a transatlantic liner. She had promenaded with him, had played bridge with him, and had sat out on deck—the lightless decks—with him as other young men and women aboard ship had embarked on friendly alliances for the voyage. These two had talked, or rather Miss Knox had talked and Captain Ware had listened, and rather liked each other—that was all. There had been nothing sentimental in their relations, even under the moon and in the not unromantic precautionary darkness enforced by the peril of the submarine. They were recognized by the passengers as having paired off, just as a dozen other young couples were similarly indulgently recognized. It was youth making the best of its every moment. That was all.
“I simply can’t imagine what it is going to be like—living over here,” she said. “It must have been terribly interesting for an American to live in France before the war—but now, with all the effects of war to see, it will be like living in a thrilling book, don’t you think?”