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...
A/N: The second half of this story is all about the aftermath of the sinking, and is just as long, if not longer, than the first half. You'll notice a difference in the pacing as well; the second half is slower, much more psychological. It's like they're really two separate stories, with the same characters: the first is the action, the second is the fallout from the action. I have a long-standing interest not just in the tragedy, but how it subsequently affected the survivors... and I want to do it justice. So, hang in there... we're not out of the woods by any means.
I apologize if this chapter seems like a recap of events, but our two wanderers have a lot of catching up to do with one another :)
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Officer Lowe tacked toward the ship, the boat's prow plowing through the water and spraying mist that caught the early morning light. He alternated between steering, scrambling about the little boat, calling out orders, and sitting next to the small woman covered head to toe in blankets, who was lying half-prone on a seat near the tiller. He constantly checked on her, watching her breathing, repositioning her when she started to slide downward in the boat, and adjusting the layers of material surrounding her. Once, he just held her close to him, murmuring into the blankets covering her hair.
From Collapsible D, Irene Harris watched him, and despite her pain over the almost certain loss of her own Harry, she had to smile. She thought it was the most tender scene she had ever witnessed.
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Mary Fabian stood on the deck as the lifeboat maneuvered along the side of the Carpathia. She had been watching them come to her ship all morning, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of the cold, weeping survivors. But this boat was different. First of all, it had a sail, and second, it was dragging a smaller boat behind it. It drew up with expert precision, skillfully directed by an officer standing at the helm. Soon, the little boat was made fast, and the passengers started making their way up the ladders or, in some cases, hauled up by ropes, nets, or sacks. When all of the sailboat's passengers had disembarked, the occupants of the collapsible began making their way from their boat to the more solid wooden one, and then to the safety of the Carpathia. During this time, she had lost track of the officer, but after everyone had left she saw that he had been huddled near the tiller, where a pile of blankets was nestled. When the boat was finally empty, he picked up the blanket-covered bundle gently in his arms and carried it to the cargo net. Signaling the crew above, he shouted, "Get her to the doctor quickly! There's no time to lose!"
He quickly stowed the mast and sail before scrambling up the rope ladder. By that time, crewmembers had retrieved the bundle from the net and one began carrying it toward the dining saloon, where a first-aid station of sorts had been hastily assembled. The officer caught up with him, and Mary trailed surreptitiously behind the little group, curious to see what the fuss was about.
