By this time the grey dawn was slowly breaking, throwing a cold and ghastly light upon the hideous scene of terror. Round about the boats were gathered the officers and some of the crew, doing their best to prepare them for lowering. Indeed, one had already been got away. In it was Lady Holmhurst, who had been thrown there against her will, shrieking for her child and husband, and about a score of women and children, together with half-a-dozen sailors and an officer.
Augusta caught sight of her friend’s face in the faint light “Bessie! Bessie! Lady Holmhurst!” she cried, “I have got the boy. It is all right—I have got the boy!”
She heard her, and waved her hand wildly towards her; and then the men in the boat gave way, and in a second it was out of earshot. Just then a tall form seized Augusta by the arm. She looked up: it was Mr. Tombey, and she saw that in his other hand he held a revolver.
“Thank God!” he shouted in her ear, “I have found you! This way—this way, quick!” And he dragged her aft to where two sailors, standing by the davits that supported a small boat, were lowering her to the level of the bulwarks.
“Now then, women!” shouted an officer who was in charge of the operation. Some men made a rush.
“Women first! Women first!”
“I am in no hurry,” said Augusta, stepping forward with the trembling child in her arms; and her action for a few seconds produced a calming effect, for the men stopped.
“Come on!” said Mr. Tombey, stooping to lift her over the side, only to be nearly knocked down by a man who made a desperate effort to get into the boat. It was Mr. Meeson, and, recognising him, Mr. Tombey dealt him a blow that sent him spinning back.
“A thousand pounds for a place!” he roared. “Ten thousand pounds for a seat in a boat!” And once more he scrambled up at the bulwarks, trampling down a child as he did so, and was once more thrown back.
Mr. Tombey took Augusta and the child into his strong arms and put her into the boat. As he did so, he kissed her forehead and murmured, “God bless you, good-bye!”