“I’ll go and tub the baby,” Norah said.
She bathed him in one of the big bathrooms, to his great amazement and delight; and then, wrapping him in a big, soft bath-towel until he looked like a hilarious chrysalis, she took him back to his mother. Mrs. Field looked better when she opened the door to receive the sweet-smelling bundle.
“You’ve bathed him?—oh, Norah, you dear!”
“He was so good,” said Norah. “Of course, he hasn’t his nightie on, Mrs. Field.”
“I must dress him altogether,” the poor little wife said. “You know we have to take to the boats at daylight.”
“Yes, of course,” Norah said. “Oh, and Dad said I was to tell you, Captain Field, that he has made arrangements for Mrs. Field and Tommy to come in our boat, in—in the boys’ place; and they will be in his special charge—and Tommy is mine. So you mustn’t worry.”
“Thanks,” said Captain Field; and could say no more. He put out his, hand and shook Norah’s very hard.
Dinner was served as usual, and people tried to eat. The captain came in late, and made a little speech between the courses. He was immensely sorry for them all, he told them; it was the fortune of war, and there was nothing to be said. Everything possible would be done for their care and safety, and he told them that he did not doubt that they would aid him in any measures he could take. Breakfast would be served half an hour before daylight; they would be called in time. He urged them all to go to bed early and try to get a good night’s rest. The German ship had just signalled renewed warnings against any lights showing—he wished them to remember that they were completely in the power of an enemy who would sink them without hesitation if orders were disobeyed. He thanked them for their calm behaviour in the afternoon and, in advance, for the equal calmness he knew he might expect in the morning. “We’re not a fighting crowd, but we don’t show the white feather!” finished the captain, abruptly. He gave a jerky little bow and left the saloon.
“Poor dear young man!” said the old lady who knitted, wiping her eyes.
There was very little sleep on board the Perseus that night. People talked together in little groups. All luggage was already stowed in the boats, and nothing remained to be done. In a corner of the deck the Billabong family stayed, not talking very much, since there seemed so little to say, but finding some comfort in nearness to each other. Wally had written letters to his brothers and given them into Mr. Linton’s keeping.