Early in the evening came the cable message that justified poor Melina's confidence. Eugénie White—the Whites used to be Le Blancs, but since Eugénie came back from Boston, they have taken the more up-to-date name—Eugénie came flying up the street from the railroad station, waving the yellow envelope and spreading the news as she flew. The message consisted of only one word: "Safe"; but it was dated Queenstown, and it bore the signature we were henceforth to be so proud of: Joseph Pettipaw.
Two days later the Herald contained a notice of the rescue by a Norwegian freighter of the Captain of the Maid of the North; but we had to wait ten days for the full story, which occupied two columns in one of the Queenstown journals and almost as much in the Dublin Post, with a very lifelike photograph of Captain Joe. It was a wonderful story, as you may very likely remember, for the American papers gave it plenty of attention a little later.
It had been a calm, warm day, but with an immense sea running. Before entering the war zone Captain Joe had made due preparation for emergencies. The ship's boats were ready to be swung, and in each was a barrel of water and a supply of biscuit and other rations. The submarine was not sighted until it was too late to think of escaping; the engines were reversed; and when the German commander called out through his megaphone that ten minutes would be allowed for the escape of the crew, all hands hurried to the lee side and began piling into the boats. The mate's was lowered away first and cleared safely.
The Captain was about to give the order for the lowering of his own boat, when the only woman in the party cried out that her husband was being left behind. It was the cook, who was indulging in an untimely nap, his noonday labors in the galley being over. In her first excitement Martha Figman had failed to notice his absence, but had made for the boat as fast as she could, carrying her three-year-old child.
"Be quick!" called out the commander of the submarine. "Your time is up!"
"Oh, Captain, Captain, don't leave him," implored the desperate woman. "He's all I have!"
Then Captain Joe did the thing that will go down in history. He seized the little girl and held her aloft in his arms and called out to the Germans:
"In the name of this little child, grant me three more minutes."
"Two!" replied the commander.