“Place aux dames!” I cried; and, with the spasmodic strength of great crises, I held back the men, and got the women off first. Then men enough to take charge of the boat.
M. André was in it; the first that was lowered. Another followed, filled with the crew of the Lépante. Her captain was the first to leap into it.
And Marc, freed from the arms that held him, dashed over the side into the foaming waters, to swim after Cécile.
His vengeance was not in this world.
As for me, I was left alone on the Lépante—with the rats.
I am a sailor, and have a sailor’s prejudices, fears, hopes, beliefs.
I saw the rats. They had not left the ship. I accepted the omen. I knew the Lépante was not doomed, if they stayed.
To take to such a sea in an open boat seemed certain death.
I preferred to stay with my friends, the rats.
Rudderless, dismasted, we still floated.