For the last forty-eight hours they had both been living in a state of awful suspense. First had come the tidings of the engagement in the North Sea, with the depressing information that the British losses had been very heavy. Then came the news that eight destroyers had been sunk; but no mention of the Mariner. They had no means of finding out whether or not she had even taken part in the battle; but both of them, with dismal forebodings in their hearts, had made up their minds for the worst.
All day and all night the two women had prayed and hoped. The agony of their suspense was almost more than they could bear, and their hearts nearly broke during that frightful period of waiting. Emmeline, pale-faced and red-eyed, went to the railway station twice a day to procure the earliest copies of the morning and evening newspapers. Together they had read them eagerly, trying to piece together some sort of a connected narrative to relieve their tortured minds. But still there was nothing about the Mariner. They read about the desperate destroyer attacks on the German fleet, and of the losses incurred by the British flotillas. They could not bring themselves to believe that 'no news was good news.'
Emmeline looked up with the tears still trickling down her face, and reaching for her handkerchief, proceeded to dab her eyes. 'I'm a fool,' she said, sniffing; 'I suppose I ought to be thankful he isn't killed.'
Her mother kissed her gently. 'There, there, my dear,' she said softly; 'that's better. Be brave. It's all over now.'
The girl dried her eyes, rose from her chair, and walked slowly across to the mirror over the mantelpiece. 'Lor'!' she said bravely, a little smile hovering round the corners of her quivering mouth; 'I do look a sight, and no mistake!'
II.
When the Mariner struggled home to her east coast port after the engagement, Martin was one of the first to be packed off to the local hospital. Then had followed an operation, and a fortnight's delay before he was sufficiently recovered to be sent to the Royal Naval Hospital at Haslar. It was here that he again saw his mother and father, who came down for the day, called him a brave boy, and inconsiderately wept over him through sheer thankfulness.
Then, at four o'clock on one never-to-be-forgotten afternoon, Joshua Billings suddenly appeared. He was grinning sheepishly, and Pincher noticed at once that he wore the badge of a leading seaman.
''Allo, Josh!' he exclaimed, very much pleased to see him, and shaking his horny hand; ''ow goes it?'
'Orl right, Pinch. 'Ow's yerself?'