"
"Same here, captain," said the carpenter, a little grizzled man of sixty.
Robertson shook hands with each of them in turn. "I knew you were men ," he said simply. "Come below and let's have a drink together, and then see to the boat."
"What's all this, skipper?" said Allen, with an oath, "d'ye think I'm going to save my carcase and let you men drown? I'll see you all damned first!"
"You'll obey orders," growled the captain, "and my orders are that you take charge of that boat. And don't give me any lip. You are a married man and have children. None of us who are standing by the ship are married men. By God, my joker, if you don't know your duty, I'll teach you. Are you going to let these four women go adrift in a boat to perish when you can save them?"
Allen looked the captain squarely in the face and then put out his hand.
"I understand you, sir. But I don't like doing it. The ship won't keep afloat another hour. But, as you say, I've a wife and kids to consider."
Followed by the others, Robertson went below, and told his passengers to get ready for the boat. The old French priest, exhausted by his labour at the pumps, was still lying on the transom cushions, sleeping; the Rev. Lacy was seated at the table smoking his pipe (all the ladies were in their state-rooms). He rose as the men entered, and looked at them inquiringly.