Harold Lowe has managed to claw his way up the career ladder of the British merchant marines, rising from a ship's boy to a master mariner with one of the world's elite passenger lines. Along the way, he's learned to master not only his craft, but...
This chapter may be a little frustrating (you'll see what I mean soon enough), but hang in there, please... :)
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Clear Cameron had been trying to comfort the weeping Irish girl next to her for nearly an hour, well before the ship had disappeared into the sea. She was inconsolable, first wailing hysterically and then dissolving in a never-ending puddle of tears. Between fresh bursts of sobs, Clear was able to deduce that her best friend had been left behind on the ship. Worse, the man this girl - Katie - had been romancing aboard the ship was the one responsible; he had pushed her away from their boat as she was about to jump in. Poor Katie alternated between devastation and self-hatred at bringing such a curse down upon her friend. Sympathetically, Clear patted the girl's hand. "It's not your fault," she said soothingly. "And I'm sure your friend was able to find another boat."
"You don't know her!" the girl howled. "She's probably running around putting babies into boats rather than taking a seat for herself. She'll die up there without me!"
"Corrine can take care of herself," declared her friend Kate on the other side of her. She, too, had been trying to comfort Katie, to no avail. "You know she'll find a way... because..." she gestured with her head behind her.
She looked up. That officer was staring at them again, his dark eyes unreadable in the black night. But she knew he was listening closely. Between the many tasks he was trying to complete - tying up boats, organizing supplies, reassuring frightened passengers, calling out orders to crewmembers - he had still found time to pay attention to the drama at the other end of his boat.
Katie grabbed Kate's arm with surprising strength. "But the tea leaves," she whispered.
"What?" Clear asked, bewildered.
Kate turned to her, sighing. "Katie believes in reading tea leaves-"
"They always tell the truth!" Katie interrupted.
"-And she read Corrine's one day after afternoon tea on the ship. She didn't tell her, because she'd already left the dining room-"
"But they predicted that Corrine would die soon," Katie finished miserably.
Clear shook her head. "Superstition, is all," she reassured Katie. Kate nodded in agreement.
But Katie refused to be consoled. "She was still on that ship," she whispered. "I know it in my heart. She never found another boat. She'll die in the freezing water, all alone..." It was too much to bear, and she broke down in tears again. Even Kate was beginning to look distressed, as if she too knew that Katie was right.
Then Clear saw the officer shift his position at the tiller.
Something in his demeanor had changed. It was as if he had been waiting for confirmation of something that he now knew. He stood up straighter, and in the glow of his electric torch, she saw steely determination in the set of his jaw.
