was hurriedly wading back toward the stairs.
Then she was running up the steps, down the deck, and into
the saloon. She inserted the crowbar into the doorjamb of the
first door. „It will only be a moment. I have something now.“
It took so long, she thought in despair. Why wasn’t she
stronger? The wood finally splintered and the door swung
open. A young woman wearing a flowered pink peignoir and
carrying a small child ran out into the saloon as tears ran down
her cheeks. „We’re all going to die!“ she sobbed, clutching the
child desperately.
„No.“ Silver was already working on the next’ door. „Help
me!“
„But we’re going to die.“
„You may be stupid enough to die here, but I intend to
live,“ Silver said impatiently. „Now, help – “
„Silver!“ Nicholas’s voice!
Relief surged through Silver. Nicholas was strong. Nicholas
would help her. „Here! In the saloon, Nicholas.“
Then he was beside her, his face blackened by smoke, his
white shirt grimy and stained. „You’re very dirty,“ she said
vaguely. „Help me, Nicholas, there’s not much time.“
He stood there, looking at her, an odd radiance shining
beneath the grime. „You’re dirty too.“ His index finger
reached out to gently touch her sooty cheek. „I thought you
were dead.“
„I will be if you don’t help me get these poor people out of
their cabins.“ She pried desperately with the crowbar.
„Bassinger locked them all in and this damn boat is sinking…“
„Stand back.“ He took the crowbar and broke the lock with
one slicing blow. „Valentin is in a rowboat tied to the stern of
the hurricane deck and Mikhail is picking up survivors in
another boat.“ He was going from door to door swiftly
breaking the locks. Passengers were streaming from the cabins
into the saloon; the smoke was thickening. „Get to the boat at
the stern and off the Mary L,“ he shouted.
There were cries of relief and a rush toward the door of the
saloon as the freed passengers dashed toward safety*
Silver stood and watched as the saloon emptied. Two more
doors.
„Dammit, Silver, get out of here,“ Nicholas said harshly,
glancing over his shoulder.
She shook her head.
He broke the lock and moved to the last door. „You’ve
done your part. You can’t help here. Why the hell don’t you
get off the boat?“
Two men dressed only in their long underwear rushed by
her and out of the saloon.
„I can’t leave,“ she said simply. „Not while you’re still
here.“ It all seemed very clear, even through the haze of pain
and exhaustion enveloping her. She could not leave when
Nicholas stayed. She could not live if Nicholas died.
Then the last door was open and Nicholas was running
toward her, grabbing her by the arm and pushing her from the
saloon. A towheaded boy of thirteen years or so rushed by
them toward the small boat at the rear of the deck.
It was difficult to walk, she thought dimly. Her legs felt as
heavy as if she were still wading through the water on the
boiler deck. But there was no water here. How puzzling.
„Are you all right?“ Nicholas asked quietly. „I’d carry you,
but I don’t want to touch your back.“
Her back. Oh, yes, Bassinger had been whipping her. It all
seemed like such a long time ago. The pain was now coursing
not only in her back but in every muscle of her body. „I…
can… walk.“ She was almost to the rail. Only a few more
steps. „I… didn’t scream.“
Nicholas’s hand tightened on her arm. „I know you didn’t.“
„He wanted me to scream. He kept saying it over and
over.“
„Lord.“ Nicholas’s voice was hoarse, ragged. „For God’s
sake. Silver, shut up. You’re killing me.“
„I’m sorry… I didn’t…“ What had she been going to say?
Then Valentin was reaching out to help her into the boat,
seating her beside the towheaded young boy who had passed
them on the deck.
Cork life preservers floated on the surface of the river, and
she could see several men clutching them and swimming
toward the Rose.
Nicholas untied the rope, jumped into the boat, and sat
down beside Valentin. „Let’s go. The Mary L can’t stay afloat
much longer taking on this much water.“ He grabbed an oar
and he and Valentin began to row with powerful steady strokes
away from the river-boat.
The Mary L was listing and, except for the hissing of the
escaping steam from the broken smokestack and the harsh
whoosh of flames, was ominously silent. Tears began to flow
down Silver’s cheeks as she gazed at the wreckage. How many
lives had been lost? How many might still be lost in this river
tonight?
„It won’t be long now,“ Nicholas said gently. „You’ll be
back on the Rose in a few minutes.“
„Some of those men in the water will have burns.“ She
spoke haltingly, trying to think clearly through the pain and
horror clouding her comprehension. „I’ll have to use linseed
oil and wrap them in raw cotton.“
„You won’t do anything but go to bed,“ Nicholas said
grimly. „We’re heading back to St. Louis and they’ll get plenty
of medical help there.“
„No, I can – “
„Savron!“
The cry was a shriek of terror and Nicholas turned in his
seat to look back at the Mary L. The red glare of the fire on the
hurricane deck was mirrored on the waters. A dark head was
bobbing on the wavelets spread by the slowly sinking
riverboat. „Savron, help me!“
Bassinger!
Bassinger was clinging to one of the supports separating
the hurricane deck from the boiler deck, a rivulet of blood
running down his face from a cut on the temple. „Come back!
I can’t swim!“
Nicholas gazed at him, his face as hard and stone cold as
the men who had died on the Mary L this night. He turned and
looked at Silver sitting ramrod straight, bearing her pain and
exhaustion in silence.
He started to row again.
„Savron, come back.“ Bassinger’s voice rose to a panicky
screech. „You can’t leave me!“
„Can’t I?“ Nicholas took another long pull at the oar.
„Watch me.“ Then he remembered Silver’s words.
His voice was savage as he called back over his shoulder.
„Scream, you son of a bitch!“
Bassinger screamed, a piercing wail of terror in the night.
A moment later the Mary L slid slowly, sluggishly, beneath
the waters of the Mississippi.
Nicholas was sitting in the tufted olive wing chair beside,
the bed, the soft glow of the lamplight casting an aura of
radiance about his golden head. He was wearing dark blue
trousers and his white linen shirt was immaculate. He was
immaculate, Silver thought with resentment. It was unfair that
he look this faultlessly elegant when she felt so unkempt. She
found she was on her stomach and tried to roll over and voice
her displeasure.
„No.“ His hands were immediately on her shoulders,
keeping her from moving. „The doctor said there would be
less pain if you don’t rest on your back for a while.“
„You’re not dirty any longer.“
He smiled. „Neither are you. Your nurse cleaned you up
quite nicely.“ He straightened the sheet over her. „She thought
you quite a docile patient until the doctor told her he was
keeping you that way with morphine.“
„Morphine? I’ve been asleep?“