The Captain looked grim. He pressed his way through the crowd, ordering them to descend with him, which they did in great confusion.
Adeline heard him shout, "All hands to the pumps!"
Philip was patting her on the back. He was smiling at her. She smiled bravely back. He raised his voice and said, "The squall is passing. Everything will be all right".
"Take Mrs. Cameron’s arm", she said. "She looks ready to drop".
Mary Cameron had left her mother’s side. Conway Court had his arms about her. Neither of them looked frightened but wore expressions of pale hilarity. Philip helped Mrs. Cameron back to her cabin. The wind was falling. Yet the sea was still heavy with great thundering waves and the wind still fierce enough to fill the storm-sails, to which the ship had been stripped, to bursting point. In the welter of the waves the Alanna lay almost on her beam-ends. Now a rainstorm advanced like a wall, seeming to join with the waves in the effort to drown those aboard.
But Captain Bradley was not downcast. He went about, ruddy-faced and cheerfully shouting his orders. The swinging lanterns illumined but little of the wild scene. Sailors were thrumming sails together and drawing them under the ship’s bow in what seemed a hopeless effort to stop the leak. Adeline felt that, if she went below, she would be desperate with fear. Here in the midst of the activity she felt herself equal to Philip in courage. She drew Mary Cameron and Conway to her side and the three linked themselves, awaiting Philip’s return.
"I gave her some brandy", he said as he came up. "She needed it, poor lady, for she is half-dead with cold". He turned to the girl. "Shall I take you down to your mother, Mary?"
"Did she ask for me?" Mary’s voice was slightly sulky.
"No. I think she’ll sleep. Perhaps you are better with us".
Conway Court gave a shout of laughter. "Mary, Mary, quite contrary-" he sang. "Sailed away to the Port of Canary!"
Philip frowned at him but Adeline laughed too and Mary gave him an adoring look. He was a wild figure in his bright-hued dressing-gown, with his tawny hair blowing in the wind.
Mr. Wilmott came up to them.
"The officers are not alarmed", he said, "but the leak appears to be a bad one. The four pumps are working like the devil. Mr. D’Arcy and Mr. Brent are helping to man them and I’m ready to give a hand when I’m needed".
When morning came there were five feet of water in the hold. The pumps were working hard and the Captain said he had the situation under control. A stewardess brought breakfast to Adeline in her cabin. She had changed into dry things but had not slept. The tiny room was in a state of disorder, her wet clothing, the belongings of Philip and the baby scattered promiscuously and depressingly. She felt herself being sucked down into a vortex of confusion, rather than of fear. But the hot tea, the bread and bacon, put life into her. She sat on the edge of the berth and combed out her hair. A pale sunlight filtered in at the porthole. She noticed the lively beauty of her hair. "It would look like this even if I were drowning", she thought, half resentfully.
In the silver mirror of her dressing-case she saw how pale her face was. She bit her lips to bring some colour into them.
"When do you think we shall get to Newfoundland?" she asked the Scotch stewardess.
"Oh, we’ll get there right enough".
"How far are we from Ireland?"
"Perhaps six hundred miles".
"How is Mrs. Cameron this morning?"
"Ah, she’s fell waur o’ the wear".
"And her daughter?"
"Fast asleep. Like your own bairn, poor wee lamb!" She cast an accusing look at Adeline.
"My brother looked after my baby very well last night", said Adeline, haughtily, for little Augusta had not been in her thoughts all night. "You say she is fast asleep? Is she with her ayah?"
"Aye. She’s with what’s left of the ayah-for the woman is more dead than alive". The stewardess stood balancing the tray against the reeling of the ship.
"Merciful heaven", cried Adeline, "what a miserable company we are!"
She crossed the passage to the ayah’s cabin and looked in. In the pale sunlight, nurse and infant looked equally fragile and remote. But they were sleeping peacefully. Adeline summoned the stewardess.
"Take that basin away", she said in a low but furious tone. "Make the place decent with as little noise as you can".
Adeline went to Mrs. Cameron’s cabin. All was neat there but the poor woman lay on her berth exhausted after her last bout of sea-sickness. The air was heavy with the scent of eau-de-Cologne. It was as though someone had emptied a bottle of it there. Mary was seated in front of the tiny dressing-table gazing at herself in the glass with a fascinated look. She was unaware of the opening of the door but continued to give her large-eyed reflection stare for stare, while the ship heaved and a cupboard door flew open, then banged shut, with each roll. Adeline laughed.
"Well, what do you think of yourself?" she asked.
"Oh, Mrs. Whiteoak", answered Mary. "I’m pretty-pretty! I have travelled right round the world and never found it out till now".
"Well", said Adeline, "it is a queer time to have discovered it. But if it’s a comfort to you, I’m glad you think so".
Still gazing at her reflection the girl answered, "Don’t you?"
Adeline laughed again. "I’m in no state to judge but I shall take a good look at you later on. Can I do anything for your mother?"
"She feels a little better, she says. She just wants to be quiet".
"Have you had any sleep?"
"A little. I’m not tired".
"You’re a better traveller than I am. Have they brought your breakfast?"
"Oh, yes. The stewardess is very kind. So is your brother. He’s so brave too".
"Well, I’m glad of that. I’m going now to see how the boys are getting on".
"May I come with you?"
"No. Stay with your mother".
Adeline found Sholto recovering from his sea-sickness. He was sipping coffee and eating a hard biscuit but he was very pale. Conway was changing into dry clothes. Adeline noticed the milky whiteness of his skin and how his chest and neck were fuller than one would judge from his face.
"Oh, Adeline", exclaimed Sholto, "I wish I’d never come on this voyage! We shall quite likely go down. Oh, I do wish I were back in Ireland with Mama and Papa and Timothy and all!"
"Nonsense", said Adeline, sitting down on the side of the berth. "In a few days you’ll be laughing at this. Here, eat your biscuit".
She took it from his hand and broke off a morsel of it and put it in his mouth. He relaxed and she fed him the rest of the biscuit in this way as though he were a baby.
She turned to Conway. "Go and find Philip and tell him I want him. Just say I must see him and that it is important".
"What do you want him for?"
She flashed a look of command at him. "Do as I say, Con".
"Very well. But he probably won’t come". He tied his cravat with as much care as though he were about to make a call.
"Oh, what a little fop you are!" she cried. "To think of you fiddling with your tie and soon we may all be at the bottom!"
Sholto hurled himself back on the pillow.
"You said everything was all right. You said we’d be laughing about this!" he sobbed.
"Now you’ve done it!" exclaimed Conway. He opened the door and went into the passage but it was a struggle to close the door after him against the rolling of the ship. Adeline had to go and put her weight against it.
She returned to Sholto. "You know I was only joking", she comforted him. "If I thought we were going to the bottom should I be looking so pleasant?"
"You’re not looking pleasant! You’re looking queer and wild".