“Come on!” he said; and leading the way once more he crossed to the end of the galley in a blind struggle against the wind, which seemed to pounce upon him and try to tear him away. But he crept on, with the doctor close to him, and became aware that he was touching something cold, which moved and then seized him with a hoarse:
“Wha’s this?”
“I, Hamish!” shouted the boy. “We want to get into the galley.”
“Gang below, laddie. Ta fire’s oot, and there’s naebody there.”
“Come back,” said the doctor in Steve’s ear; and the boy followed, too much stunned and confused by the wind and driving ice powder to propose any other plan. But as he turned to follow the doctor he became aware that several men were huddled together there in the slight shelter afforded by the cook-house, and this confused him more, for the men were at the wrong end, and not where he knew they had taken refuge before.
And now he recalled the sudden change which had taken place, and grasped the fact that they were head to wind, or nearly so, while a vibration beneath his feet told him that the engine was hard at work.
The next minute—how he did not know—they were by the way down into the engine-room, the doctor’s snowy figure being visible in a misty light which struck upward as he descended, Steve following breathless and panting, to find in the glow shed by the fires the cook on one side and Watty Links on the other, while even here the snow-dust was whirling down and melting at once into a rain, which ascended as a thick steam.
“Hadn’t you better have kept in the cabin, sir?” said the engineer to Steve; and then he turned to the doctor, “Come down for a warm, sir?”
“No! I wanted to try and get some hot drink to the men on deck—some hot coffee.”
“Couldn’t be done, sir,” said the cook.