"It's no use," said Evans wearily. "Chief Thayer. Send men to all the stations to guard the boats. You proceed to Boat E and load it first. If any person tries to force his way in, shoot to kill!" * * * * * In their small cabin, Dorothy Hall raised herself on one elbow and looked down at her sleeping husband. His hair was rumpled, his face calm and placid. "Tom," she whispered. "Wake up, Tom!" Mumbling sleepily, he opened his eyes, then smiled and tried to draw her down to him. "Wait, Tom. Did you hear the Captain's message?" "What message?" "I was so sleepy I didn't understand it very well. Something about the ship, and we must all go to our lifeboats." "You must have been dreaming. What time is it?" "Not quite midnight. Do you think everything is all right?" "Of course. You just had a bad dream. The _Star Lord_ can't be in any trouble. You know that." "Don't you think we ought to go see?" Playfully he towsled her hair. "Trying to get away from your husband? Tired of me already?" Relaxing, she snuggled down beside him with a happy sigh. "I'd never be tired of you, Tom, in a million years. Wherever you are, that's where I want to be, always." She closed her eyes. * * * * * The children were no longer afraid, and they had stopped crying. Leading them through the maze of corridors towards Boat station F, Tanya laughed and told them jokes until, reaching a corner, she suddenly found the passage blocked with a screaming mass of people, fighting, gouging, jamming the hall so that forward movement was almost impossible. She drew back, huddling the children behind her. "No place for us here, youngsters," she said. "Let's go back, where it isn't so noisy." Obediently they followed her back to the library, where she settled them in her favorite corner and picked up the abandoned chalk and paper. "Now Aunt Tanya will tell you a story," she said. "And if you're very good and don't cry at all, I'll even draw you some pictures to go with the story. Once upon a time...." * * * * * There was not enough room. A lifeboat which had been designed to carry two hundred and fifty persons could not suddenly expand to take in three hundred and seventy-five, although Chief Thayer did his best. At Boat E he stood with drawn pistol, sorting the crowd, and ordering them one by one through the port according to custom as ancient as the race. "Women and children first," he repeated, again and again. "_Women and children first!_" They could hear from distant corridors an occasional shout and the clatter of running feet, but the first panic had subsided, and under the menace of the crew's guns the people had become subdued.