Jackey was tired, and the suggestion appealed. He wriggled to and fro, poked ruthlessly with elbows and knees, until he had fitted himself to his entire satisfaction, burrowed his head beneath the lapel of Katrine’s coat, and relapsed into limp and weighty slumber. Katrine was tired too; tired with a very extremity of fatigue, but not for worlds would she have relinquished the weight of that burden.
Presently Mrs Mannering held a flask to her lips and she felt the hot smart of brandy,—just one sip, and then the flask was withdrawn, for Nancy Mannering was jealous of her stores, not knowing for how long they might be needed. There were biscuits also in those capacious pockets, bars of chocolate, and fruit taken from the saloon tables, but no adult passenger in the boat was treated to these luxuries; they were reserved for the embryo men and women of the future.
The boat drifted on, the men for the most part resting upon their oars. It was not desired to float far from the ship, since the best hope of rescue lay in keeping in her vicinity. The fog was slowly lightening, and the flare of the electric lights showed a faint gold patch through the grey. Katrine kept her eyes fixed on that patch. So long as it continued, she could hold on to hope. If it died out, so would the light fade from her own life...
Sitting huddled in her seat, Jackey’s little form pillowed in her arm, Katrine’s thoughts reviewed her past life and marvelled at the strangeness of it. Paced with the possibility of death, all the years that were past counted for nothing as compared with the happening of a few short days. Martin, Grizel, the friends and companions of her youth—she repeated their names, and sought to visualise each countenance in turn. In vain! the likenesses refused to appear; even Martin’s face was blurred, or was it that she had not enough patience, enough interest, to spare for the effort? Bedford was the world; apart from him she was incapable of a regret.
The boat drifted on. Now the sailors had turned her head and were rowing slowly back towards the ship. The yellow blur still shone through the fog. The men discussed together as to the amount of damage that had been done, the possibility of keeping the hulk afloat. Nancy Mannering turned and spoke into Katrine’s ear:
“My dear, one word! ... You mayn’t suspect it, but I’ve a heart—. In a physical Sense, I mean, no sentiment; and it’s a poor thing. I don’t expect to be drowned, but a little more of this excitement, and it may play tricks. It’s all one, I’m not whining, but if I should pan out, and you get through, will you just write to my boy? Tell him I asked you, and that he is not to grieve. Bound to go somehow, some day, and, why not now? I’ve no particular wish to live on here, but you can tell him this—wherever I am, whatever comes next, there’ll be no peace for me unless he keeps straight! That I know, and he’d better know it, too.” She was silent for some moments, during which Katrine heard the quick intake of her breath, then: “And tell him,” she added with difficulty, “tell him I’ve always been an ostrich, hiding, not my head, but my heart. Somehow I couldn’t let it out, but,” her voice deepened to a full, rich note, “there’s never been a moment of his life, since he was born, when I wouldn’t have been flayed—slowly! for his good! Tell him his mother loved him more than her life.”
“I’ll tell him; I won’t write. I’ll travel the length of India, if need be, to tell him myself,” cried Katrine, deeply touched. To discover a hidden weakness in her jaunty, self-sufficient companion was to feel herself infused with new strength. She was needed, and the woman in her rose to the? demand. She hitched Jackey on one side so as to free her right arm, and fumbling in her companion’s pocket found and extracted the flask.
“Meantime, if you have no care for yourself, think of him, and be careful for his sake. What is the use of talking of love, if you won’t do even that for his sake? Be sensible for yourself as well as for other people!”
“Mr Dick, your common-sense is invaluable!” Mrs Mannering drank, smacked her lips, and grunted with satisfaction. “That’s good! That’s better. I needed that.” Then after a momentary pause. “Remember though, if I do come through, your work is to forget. No bringing up of deathbed confidences! ... Anything in the same line that I can do for yourself?”
“No,” answered Katrine shortly. If the end came, Martin and Grizel could console each other without help from her. And their figures were misty. Even Jackey himself counted for more at this moment, embodying as he did a great potential possibility of life. As for Jim Blair—ah! let Jim hug his false dreams: let him never awake!