When the crew of the Wasdale, scrambling up the Jacob's ladders, had hoisted the bruised and benumbed passengers aboard, the crippled vessel limped on her course toward Liverpool. She was an Italian tramp, inbound from South American ports, and her captain had a taste of regions even more torrid when interviewed on his bridge by the late commander of the Wasdale, who returned aft to find his people vainly trying to find shelter from the cold.
"Why aren't dose poor miserable vimmen in the cabins?" he asked.
"The cabins are all locked, sir," replied one of the men, "and the Dago cook won't let us in the galley to get something to eat."
"Break open the cabin doors, and pitch the Eyetalian swab out on his dirty head, and cook whatefer you find in this schow," was the order, and these things were done on the instant. Coffee and hash were made by the Wasdale's cooks, and passed by the Wasdale's stewards, and the invaded cabins ransacked for whatever blankets and clothing might serve to warm the pitiable castaways.
A little later the crew of the Wasdale was mustered for roll call. Each department rallied to its chief. As down the lines of shivering men the "Here, sir," ran without a gap, the captain found himself choking back the tears, for at the same time the purser made tally of the cabin and steerage passengers, and found all present, even to the silent figure under a tarpaulin of the man who had slain himself.
The crew cheered, and the chief engineer stepped forward and began:
"Beg pardon, captain, but when we remember the Elbe and the Bourgogne, we have a right to think——"
The captain silenced him with a gesture and left them. Now, first he could think of his own crushing disaster, which, in his thoughts, eclipsed the great deliverance he had wrought by grace of his own courage and loyalty. He did not see that he had done anything to merit praise, rather was his plight almost worse than if he had gone down with the Wasdale. Brooding and unnerved, he did not rouse himself until the battered tramp was in the Mersey, and then he sent a tug ashore with tidings for his company, bidding them meet and succor his helpless people.