“Get me nearer the wireless cabin,” she directed.
Not understanding, but obeying, he worked a way for her. He got past one of the sailors on guard outside the cabin. An officer appeared; Roberta spoke to him; he motioned her in curtly, and Andy followed.
The chief operator and the relief man were working feverishly over the wreck of the wireless apparatus; they stopped and tested their tangle of connections and coils, looked to each other, and tore out their own repairs. Outside the rockets again roared into the air; cries of terror increased. Roberta, crouching inside the wireless cabin out of sight from the deck, struck her sandpapered blocks together; a harsh, grating rasp resulted. The second officer half opened the door to the deck so it could be better heard, and himself seized the blocks.
“Rasp!” the sound grated, like the rough crackle of the current of the wireless in order. “Ras-sp!” A few of the passengers heard it; they cried to others, and more made it out.
“The wireless is working! We’re getting help!”
Rockets still shot into the sky; but now, instead of increasing the panic, these aided to control it. The wireless was working and bringing ships to help the Cumberland; the rockets were rising to show the Cumberland’s position as the rescue ships raced up.
In the wireless cabin, the second officer handed the blocks to another and nodded to him to keep them going.
“Some one ran in here half crazy just after the fire broke out, and did that.” He motioned Andy toward the wrecked apparatus. “A strange thing; the Wellington, a hundred miles east, just then was in trouble, too, and calling for help. Our man here heard the Corinthian respond, and say she was starting back. He was going to respond for us, when that was done, and our own trouble came.”
“Now where are we going?” Andy asked anxiously.
“There was no use in trying to catch the Corinthian—she’s faster than we, and would be going her best on an S. O. S. call. Our only chance of getting help soon is from the Elbe—the German ship ahead. She was about sixty miles ahead of us, bound for New York. We are assuming that she also must have got the S. O. S. call from the Wellington—though our man heard only the Corinthian respond. So we’re steering to run across the Elbe if she’s coming back to the Wellington. If she is, we should see her lights now in half an hour.”