Frances Waldeaux - Rebecca Harding Davis - Страница 1 из 132
REBECCA HARDING DAVIS
AUTHOR OF "DOCTOR WARRICK'S DAUGHTER"
FOR THE BEST FELLOW-TRAVELLER
IN THE WORLD
In another minute the Kaiser Wilhelm would push off from her pier in
Hoboken. The last bell had rung, the last uniformed officer and
white-jacketed steward had scurried up the gangway. The pier was
massed with people who had come to bid their friends good-by. They
were all Germans, and there had been unlimited embracing and kissing
and sobs of "Ach! mein lieber Sckatz!" and "Gott bewahre Dick!"
Now they stood looking up to the crowded decks, shouting out last fond
words. A band playing "The Merry Maiden and the Tar" marched on board.
The passengers pressed against the rails, looking down. Almost every
one held flowers which had been brought to them: not costly bouquets,
but homely bunches of marigolds or pinks. They carried, too, little
German or American flags, which they waved frantically.
The gangways fell, and the huge ship parted from the dock. It was but
an inch, but the whole ocean yawned in it between those who went and
those who stayed. There was a sudden silence; a thousand handkerchiefs
fluttered white on the pier and the flags and flowers were waved on the
ship, but there was not a cry nor a sound.
James Perry, one of the dozen Americans on board, was leaning over the
rail watching it all with an amused smile. "Hello, Watts!" he called,
as another young man joined him. "Going over? Quite dramatic, isn't
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