“C. Q.”; or, In the Wireless House
“We have reversed also,” he flashed back. “All safe. Cannot see you. Must be within few yards of each other.”
Thus the Saxonia and Pavonia lay at arm’s length thundering like two helpless giants, their captains expecting momentarily to be hurled, each from his bridge, by a splintering concussion, while the two boys in the wireless offices flashed encouragement to each other.
Lily Trevelyan had been playing bridge with her friends all the evening in the smoking-room, where the glare of the electric lights was tempered by a cloud of cigar smoke almost as thick as the fog outside. Arrayed in her Paquin gown with its extreme cut she had dazed the passengers at dinner and filled the smoking-saloon afterwards. Apparently the only male absent was Ponsonby, and he had duties elsewhere. The men, who had had plenty of opportunity to study her beauty, vowed she had never shown herself off to such advantage.
“This is the last!” she announced, as, a cigarette between her lips, she essayed to deal. “It is getting too hot in here!”
Suddenly the ship shook violently and rolled to starboard with a violence that almost threw211
