They had steak for supper. Smitty, in a mood of thanksgiving, had cooked an unusually good meal. He served it himself, almost cheerfully.
“Such a nice quiet evening,” exclaimed the Chaplain.
“It’s a real relief,” said the Major. “A real relief. I thought for a while that ... well, that that was it, if you know what I mean.”
“It was pretty close,” said Evans, smiling. His passengers looked much better. The Chaplain especially seemed happy.
“Yes,” said the Major, “I think we’ve been lucky. Of course, we have Mr Evans here to thank. If it hadn’t been for his ... his efforts, I suppose, we’d be dead now.”
“That’s right,” said the Chaplain, looking fondly at Evans. “You really did a remarkable job.”
“Pass the sugar,” said Duval and he took the sugar when it was passed to him and put several spoonsful of it in his coffee. Evans could see that he did not like to hear his Skipper praised.
“By the way,” said Evans, “I think we should really compliment the Chief. He sure did a good job. If his engine room hadn’t been operating I don’t know where we’d be.”
“That’s right,” said the Major, “we mustn’t forget Mr Duval.”
“We’ve been extremely fortunate,” said the Chaplain. “Not of course that we all weren’t quite ready to ... to meet our Maker, as it were.”