As Kenyon gave this peremptory order, he realized that he was taking a liberty he had no right to take, and his face flushed as he wondered if Edith would resent the familiarity of his tones; but she merely looked up at him with a bright smile, and said:
'I will do, sir, as you command.'
'No, no,' said Kenyon; 'it was not a command, although it sounded like one. It was a very humble request; at least, I intended it to be such.'
'Well, I will get my wrap.'
As she left for her state-room, a rousing cheer was heard from on deck. She stopped, and looked at Kenyon.
'What does that mean?' she asked.
'I do not know,' was the answer. 'Please get your things on and we will go up and see.'
When they reached the deck they saw everybody at the forward part of the ship. Just becoming visible in the eastern horizon were three trails of black smoke, apparently coming towards them.
The word was whispered from one to the other: 'It is the tug-boats. It is relief.'
Few people on board the steamer knew that their very existence depended entirely on the good weather. The incessant pumping showed everybody, who gave a thought to the matter, that the leak had been serious; but as the subsidence of the vessel was imperceptible to all save experts, no one but the officers really knew the grave danger they were in. Glad as the passengers were to see those three boats approach, the one who most rejoiced was the one who knew everything respecting the disaster and its effects—the captain.