“The women now spoke for the first time—and it was to appeal to the
excited boat’s load to let me be taken off first, since I was injured.
I found I could not stand, so sat in the middle of the seat trying to
trim the boat while the men scrambled out. I was left alone at last;
and the water that came over the gunwale poured over my legs to my
waist, some of it soaking through my thick great-coat and chilling me
to the bone. The boat was floating away. Some one shouted to me to get
up. I got on to my hands and knees on the seat and tried to crawl
along the side, but the change of position nearly caused me to faint
with pain. Then the Belgian managed to get hold of the boat and hold
her, and some sailors leaned out of the hatchway in the _Sussex’s_ side
and grasped me by the arms and pulled me up and in as though I had been
a sack. There were many far worse hurt than I, and they left me propped
against a wall. The Belgian again came to the rescue, and half dragged
me to the top of the second saloon stairway. I got down by levering
myself on my hands on the rails, while he supported me under the arms.
[Illustration:
_Courtesy of Leslies._