“How terrible!” gasped Belle. “Oh, I don’t see how any one can take a long voyage. I am so afraid of the water.”
“I don’t blame you–not when it acts this way,” spoke Eline. “It makes me shudder!”
The big green waves seemed to be reaching hungrily out for those on the strand, as though not satisfied with having wrecked the ship. The waters fairly flung themselves at the men whose seemingly puny efforts were being directed to save those yet remaining on board.
“Is the ship’s captain among them?” asked Walter, pointing to the group of sailors.
“No, indeed!” exclaimed Rosalie. “He’ll be the last one to leave. They’re always like that. My father was a captain once,” and she seemed proud of the fact, though now she was glad that her father was safe in the staunch lighthouse.
“That’s so, I forgot,” remarked Walter. “The captain is always the last to leave.”
“But I thought women and children came first in a rescue at sea,” suggested Ed.
“The women and girls–I heard there were some girls,” went on Rosalie, “wouldn’t get in the boat. They were afraid. Of course the breeches buoy is safer, but look how they have to wait. She may go to pieces any time now.”
“It’s dreadful,” said Cora, in a low voice.
She and her companions drew closer to where the life-savers were at work. The boys and girls were wet, for the rain penetrated through coats, and umbrellas were impossible. But they did not mind this, and Mrs. Chester had promised to have hot coffee for them when they got back to the bungalow. She had refused to go out to look at the wreck.