“The dickens!” ejaculated Dick. “That’s very queer. Nobody said a word to me of any warning having been received. Yet—no, I cannot understand it. Mr Brown, our ‘chief,’ you know, and some seven or eight more were down in the ward-room when we hit the berg, and he seemed as much astonished as any of us. If he had heard anything about it, I think he would certainly have passed the word round, but—he didn’t.”
“Ah!” remarked the Bolivia’s chief, with deep meaning. “Were you by any chance trying to break the record?”
“Well,” answered Dick, “I believe the skipper had some such idea in his mind. You see we’ve had the most perfect weather all the way; little or no wind, and water like glass; the ship reeling off her twenty-six-and-a-half knots as steadily as clockwork, and everything going beautifully. I certainly did get a hint that Captain Prowse would like to set up a new record—”
“Exactly!” concurred Urquhart, dryly. “That, to my mind, explains everything. Your skipper got our warning—and simply suppressed it. He was out after a new record, and was willing to ‘take a chance,’ as the Americans say. And here is the result—a brand-new ship gone to the bottom, and, I suppose, hundreds of lives lost. How many did you muster, all told?”
“I couldn’t say, exactly,” answered Dick, “but probably not far short of three thousand.”
“Yes; there you are!” commented Urquhart. “Three thousand; and boats for only about half of ’em. What became of your skipper? Went down with his ship, I expect.”
“I’m afraid so,” answered Dick. “In fact, I should not be very greatly surprised if it should prove that I am the only surviving officer.”
“That so? And how did you manage to escape?” demanded Urquhart.
Whereupon Dick launched forth into the full story of the disaster. But before he had nearly finished, the boat arrived alongside the Bolivia, and her freight, whether living or dead, was quickly passed up on deck to the waiting doctor, who quickly distributed the units here and there about the ship, while the boat departed upon a further quest.
Dick and Earle, being both very little the worse for their adventure, were first taken below and given a hot bath; then they were led to a vacant passenger cabin, packed in hot blankets, and given a certain nauseous draught which quickly threw them into a profuse perspiration and a deep sleep, from which they emerged, some hours later, not a penny the worse for their adventure.