"I know," said Mrs. Mohrenheim.
She drew back and stretched out a hand to a muffled figure holding to a stanchion above where she stood. It was Professor Mohrenheim. Newcomb realized now that the figure had been there from the first.
"We have been together for forty years," the old woman said. "Too long to be parted now." Her husband bent down and took her hand. Now he had drawn her up beside him.
A man with bare feet and a blanket round him rushed on deck as word came, blown along from group to group, "The captain says every one for'ard, and each for himself."
Down by the bridge they were launching a collapsible raft.
The last Newcomb, or any one, saw of the Mohrenheims, they were standing together. They held to each other and to the stanchion.
Grant followed the girl down the swinging ladder to the raft.
Some one was crying:
"Get away! Pull out! For God's sake, get away!" Another, equally unrecognizable in the dimness, called out: