The reaction following a sleepless night of anxiety had replaced the first feeling of thankfulness at deliverance, and it was not a happy cargo of humanity which the rescuing boat bore with her as the sun peeped over the hills.  Many of the passengers were but half dressed, all were exhausted and hungry, each one had lost something in the catastrophe.  The men were silent, the women hysterical, the children fretful.

Murray O’Neil had recovered sufficiently to go among them with the same warm smile which had made him friends from the first.  In the depths of his cool gray eyes was a sparkle which showed his unquenchable Celtic spirit, and before long smiles answered his smiles, jokes rose to meet his pleasantries.

It was his turn now to comfort Captain Johnny Brennan, who had yielded to the blackest despair, once his responsibility was over.

“She was a fine ship, Murray,” the master lamented, staring with tragic eyes at the Nebraska’s spars.

“She was a tin washtub, and rusted like a sieve,” jeered O’Neil.

“But think of me losing her on a still night!”

“I’m not sure yet that it wasn’t a jellyfish that swam through her.”

“Humph!  I suppose her cargo will be a total loss.  Two hundred thousand dollars—­”

“Insured for three hundred, no doubt.  I’ll warrant the company will thank you.”

“It’s kind of you to cheer me up,” said Brennan, a little less gloomily, “especially after the way I abandoned you to drown, but the missus won’t allow me in the house at all when she hears I left you in pickle.  Thank God the girl didn’t die, anyway!  I’ve got that to be thankful for.  Curtis Gordon would have broken me—­ "

“Gordon?”

“Sure!  Man dear, don’t you know who you went bathing with?  She’s the daughter of that widow Gerard, and the most prominent passenger aboard, outside of your blessed self.  Ain’t that luck!  If I was a Jap I’d split myself open with a bread-knife.”

“But, fortunately, you’re a sensible ‘harp’ of old Ireland.  I’ll see that the papers get the right story, ’o buck up.”

“Do you think for a minute that Mrs. Brennan will understand why I didn’t hop out of the lifeboat and give you my place?  Not at all.  I’m ruined nautically and domestically.  In the course of the next ten years I may live it down, but meanwhile I’ll sleep in the woodshed and speak when I’m spoken to.”

Murray knew that Miss Gerard had been badly shaken by her ordeal, hence he made no attempt to see her even after the steamer had reached the fishing-village and the rescued passengers had been taken in by the residents.  Instead, he went directly to the one store in the place and bought its entire stock, which he turned over to the sufferers.  It was well he did so, for the village was small and, although the townspeople were hospitable, both food and clothing were scarce.