He rings the engines astern--I fighting like mad to make
myself heard! And of course . . . "
I saw tears, a shower of them fall down Mr. Powell's face. His voice
broke.
"The _Ferndale_ went down like a stone and Captain Anthony went down with
her, the finest man's soul that ever left a sailor's body. I raved like
a maniac, like a devil, with a lot of fools crowding round me and asking,
"Aren't you the captain?"
"I wasn't fit to tie the shoe-strings of the man you have drowned," I
screamed at them . . . Well! Well! I could see for myself that it was
no good lowering a boat. You couldn't have seen her alongside. No use.
And only think, Marlow, it was I who had to go and tell Mrs. Anthony.
They had taken her down below somewhere, first-class saloon. I had to go
and tell her! That Flaherty, God forgive him, comes to me as white as a
sheet, "I think you are the proper person." God forgive him. I wished
to die a hundred times. A lot of kind ladies, passengers, were
chattering excitedly around Mrs. Anthony--a real parrot house. The
ship's doctor went before me.
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