The Chinaman stokers went in a disorderly rush for the port boats. Nobody tried to check them. The Malays, after a moment of confusion, became quiet, and Mr. Sterne showed a good countenance. Captain Whalley had not moved. His thoughts were darker than this night in which he had lost his first ship.
“He made me lose a ship.”
Another tall figure standing before him amongst the litter of the smash on the bridge whispered insanely—
“Say nothing of it.”
Massy stumbled closer. Captain Whalley heard the chattering of his teeth.
“I have the coat.”
“Throw it down and come along,” urged the chattering voice. “B-b-b-b-boat!”
“You will get fifteen years for this.”
Mr. Massy had lost his voice. His speech was a mere dry rustling in his throat.
“Have mercy!”