As the dawn had come quickly, so order sprang out of chaos under
Lavelle's quiet voice of command. There was no shouting; no bluster--a
certain proof always that it has been given to a man to speak with
authority. A word--more often it was but a nod or a wave of the
hand--and as if by magic these yellow men translated it into some needed
action.
One of the first things Lavelle caused to be done was the moving of the
boat's two water breakers aft. He gave each one a drink, apportioning to
the coolies what he gave to the others and even rousing the Russian for
his share. When it came to his turn to drink he paused and, with one
scarred arm resting across his knee, looked out across the sea
mystically. He turned quickly toward the women, after several minutes.
"I wish to say a word to you, Miss Granville," he said in the quiet low
tone which seemed to be invariably his manner of speaking. His glance
rested on her but for a moment, and then passed to Elsie. "And to you,
too, Mrs. Moore: I want you both to know that I am very sorry that this
terrible thing has happened to you. Yet women can be brave. I have met
brave men, but never any braver than you two women at this moment.
Because you are brave I have chosen to speak to you as I am doing. I
want you to feel--to know that I appreciate your trying position. I will
endeavor to make things as easy as I can for you--so you may not be
ashamed--as I should wish my mother and my sister to go unashamed. We
may be together only a short time--maybe a very long while. Long or
short, every one of us is going to be called upon to show the utmost
patience and forbearance--fortitude. God willing, we will pull through
and I will give my life willingly to that end at any moment. If I should
be taken from you----" A sob from the Shanghai woman interrupted him.
"No; one never knows what may happen. There is Chang, and you may trust
him as I expect you to trust me--implicitly. A moment ago you saw
something----" His glance went to the Russian, and Emily understood.
"That was necessary, but I don't wish you to understand this to be an
apology--or an explanation. I think I did wrong in not letting that man
drown--in not killing him." Emily turned her face away with a shudder.
"You may think of me as you please. It is immaterial, but obedience I
will have and must have from every soul here." A harshness as of a steel
blade meeting a steel blade displaced the gentleness in his voice. "The
sea is very treacherous--very treacherous. One must be in order to fight
it. That is all."
Glancing up, Emily saw Lavelle gazing out over the water again,
seemingly oblivious of the boat. The bearded man forward groaned. He sat
up and the sight of his bruised and broken nose--his face swollen beyond
resemblance to what it had been only a little while before--renewed in
all its strength her feeling of revulsion against Lavelle. She grew sick
at the thought of the brutish force of him who could maul a man like
that with one blow.