“Not exactly! I’m not expected to pick up passengers in mid ocean.”
“Then I shouldn’t do it,” Mr. Sabin said. “If they are in a hurry the Alaska is due up to-day, isn’t she? and she’ll be in New York in three days, and the Baltimore must be close behind her. I should let them know that.”
“Well,” the captain answered, “I don’t want fresh passengers bothering just now.”
The flags were run up, and the replies came back as promptly. The captain shut up his glass with a bang.
“No getting out of them,” he remarked to Mr. Sabin. “They reply that the lady is nervous and will not wait; they are coming on board at once—for fear I should go on, I suppose. They add that Mr. Watson is the largest American holder of Cunard stock and a director of the American Board, so have them we must—that’s pretty certain. I must see the purser.”
He descended, and Mr. Sabin, following him, joined the little group of passengers. They all stood together watching the long rowing boat which was coming swiftly towards them through the smooth sea. Mr. Sabin explained to them the messages which had passed, and together they admired the disabled yacht.
Mr. Sabin touched the first mate on the arm as he passed.
“Did you ever see a vessel like that, Johnson?” he remarked.
The man shook his head.
“Their engineer is a fool, sir!” he declared scornfully. “Nothing but my own eyes would make me believe there’s anything serious the matter with her shaft.”