She spoke bravely, laying emphasis upon her boy's rank. She felt certain she could enlist the entire sympathy and aid of a brother-officer, notwithstanding he was a post-captain.
"If you will allow me I will give you a passage in my gig," said the naval officer. "It is only a short distance by water, but quite twenty miles from here by land. I fancy that cabby knew you were a stranger here. My name is O'Rourke—Captain O'Rourke."
Outside the station boys were selling the early evening papers. Catching sight of the naval officer three or four of them made a rush towards him.
"Evening paper, sir. H.M.S. 'Terrier' torpedoed and sunk."
He bought a copy, and without attempting to read it thrust it into his coat pocket.
"When a ship is torpedoed, Captain O'Rourke, are the crew severely injured?" inquired Mrs. Aubyn.
"A strange question to ask," thought the naval man. He glanced swiftly at his companion, trying to read an unexpressed thought that might have prompted her query. Her face betrayed no sign whatever.
"Well, it depends," he answered guardedly. "Unless there are men below, close to the point of impact, there is generally very little damage to personnel. The men would undoubtedly feel the effect of the concussion. When the 'Hogue' and her consorts were torpedoed the loss of life due to the actual explosion was absurdly small in comparison to the number of men drowned. Of course, if the torpedo strikes the magazine and caused an internal explosion, that is quite another matter. But excuse me, what made you ask that question?"
"My son was on the 'Terrier,'" she replied simply.
"I hope——" he began; then he stopped and pulled out the newspaper.