We were steaming back along the track we had come.

There was less excitement on board than might be expected.

The tropical stillness of the air, the quiet suddenness of the tragedy itself, the grim decisiveness of Hungerford, the watchful silence of a few men like Colonel Ryder and Clovelly, had effect upon even the emotion of those women, everywhere found, who get a morbid enjoyment out of misery.
Nearly all were watching the rescue boat, though a few looked over the sides of the ship as if they expected to find bodies floating about.
They saw sharks, instead, and a trail of blood, and this sent them away sickened from the bulwarks.

Then they turned their attention again upon the rescue party.

It was impossible not to note what a fine figure Hungerford made, as he stood erect in the bow, his hand over his eyes, searching the water.