I took the stroke and Aldrich the bow oars.
"We will make for the Connecticut shore," I said, and pulled from under
the stern of the _Patience_.
In a few minutes we had lost all sight and, except for her whistle, all
sound of her; and we ourselves were lost in the fog. There was another
eloquent and embarrassing silence. Unless, in the panic, they trampled
upon each other, I had no real fear for the safety of those on board the
steamer. Before we had abandoned her I had heard the wireless
frantically sputtering the "stand-by" call, and I was certain that
already the big boats of the Fall River, Providence, and Joy lines, and
launches from every wireless station between Bridgeport and Newport,
were making toward her. But the margin of safety, which to my thinking
was broad enough for all the other passengers, for the lovely lady was
in no way sufficient. That mob-swept deck was no place for her. I was
happy that, on her account, I had not waited for a possible rescue. In
the yawl she was safe. The water was smooth, and the Connecticut shore
was, I judged, not more than three miles distant. In an hour, unless
the fog confused us, I felt sure the lovely lady would again walk safely
upon dry land.
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