“But how many could be saved,” I asked, “in case we were really in danger?”
“Two hundred—two hundred and fifty at the most with all the boats out, if all arrived safely.”
“But the purser told me that there were seven hundred and sixty immigrants,” I insisted, “and there are only a hundred and twenty passengers. How many do you reckon are the officers, the crew, and the servants?”
“A hundred and seventy,” the doctor answered.
“Then there are a thousand and fifty on board and you can save only two hundred and fifty?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then, I can understand the hatred of these immigrants whom you take on board like cattle and treat like negroes. They are absolutely certain that in case of danger they would be sacrificed.”
“But we should save them when their turn came.”
I glanced with horror at the man who was talking to me. He looked honest and straightforward and he evidently meant what he said. And so all these poor creatures who had been disappointed in life, and badly treated by society, would have no right to life until after we were saved, we the more favored ones! Oh, how I understood now the rascally looking fellow, with his hatchet and tomahawk! How thoroughly I approved at that moment of the revolvers and the knives hidden in the belts. Yes, he was quite right, the tall, red-haired fellow. We want the first places, always the first places ... and so we might have the first places! Into the water with us!
“Well, are you satisfied?” asked the captain who was just coming out of his cabin. “Has it gone off all right?”