Like most strong men, Derrick had the heart of a woman towards anyone in pain or trouble.

There was no doctor; the so-called stewards were quite unable to cope with the well-nigh general suffering, and Derrick, in some marvellous way, found time to bear a hand.

There is no doubt that, in any case, he would have been popular; but in the present circumstances he stepped at once into the position of first friend with the men, and became a hero and a little tin god in the regard of the women; and as to the children--for there were three or four in the company, young acrobats and riders--they watched for his coming, and clung to him and adored him with their pathetic eyes, as if their present and future safety and happiness were dependent on him.

Often, in the middle of the night, he would be awakened by the wail of a child, and with eyes still half closed, and his mind only half awake, would make his way to it, give it a drink, and sometimes fall asleep with the poor little thing nestled up against him.

To them he was no longer "Mr.
Green," but "Syd," or "Dear Syddie," and they fought for a word and schemed for a smile from him.
Among the women were some who were quite young.