to me." And that was the only mention she ever made of it; yet
I know that she was thankful and that only reserve prevented her
from referring to what, to say the least, was an embarrassing
situation, however unavoidable.

Shortly after daylight we saw smoke apparently coming straight
toward us, and after a time we made out the squat lines of a
tug--one of those fearless exponents of England's supremacy of
the sea that tows sailing ships into French and English ports.
I stood up on a thwart and waved my soggy coat above my head.
Nobs stood upon another and barked. The girl sat at my feet
straining her eyes toward the deck of the oncoming boat.
"They see us," she said at last. "There is a man answering
your signal." She was right. A lump came into my throat--for
her sake rather than for mine. She was saved, and none too soon.
She could not have lived through another night upon the Channel;
she might not have lived through the coming day.

The tug came close beside us, and a man on deck threw us a rope.
Willing hands dragged us to the deck, Nobs scrambling nimbly
aboard without assistance. The rough men were gentle as mothers
with the girl. Plying us both with questions they hustled her to
the captain's cabin and me to the boiler-room. They told the
girl to take off her wet clothes and throw them outside the door
that they might be dried, and then to slip into the captain's
bunk and get warm. They didn't have to tell me to strip after I
once got into the warmth of the boiler-room. In a jiffy, my
clothes hung about where they might dry most quickly, and I
myself was absorbing, through every pore, the welcome heat of the
stifling compartment. They brought us hot soup and coffee, and