“A boat!” Alice cried. “It is a boat! There are people, living people! They are waving something white!”
“Steady, girl.” The young Lord framed the words with his lips.
Yes, she knew. Other ships had been lost, other life-boats had wandered away. And yet. It just must be true. It must be the boat from the Queen Bess.
As they dropped to the surface of the sea, she found herself holding her breath. On the prow of the life-boat was a name. Two words. It must be ‘Queen Bess.’ The first letter of each word was large.
“Yes!” she cried at last. “Q. B.—Queen Bess!”
Above the sound of the taxiing motor someone heard her cry. That someone stood up in the life-boat and screamed,
“Alice! Alice! I know your voice! Oh, thank God we are saved!”
Three minutes more and the girls were in one-another’s arms.
“See what a haul we made,” the young Lord exclaimed sometime later. “Seven children, one young lady and fifteen able-bodied seamen.”
“And all because one little lady named Alice would not give up,” Dave replied huskily.