By the Light of the Silvery Moon

by Tricia Goyer

  “Did you hear that?” someone called out. “Men are being loaded on the port side.” With hasty steps, most of the men moved that direction. Only a few others remained.

  “Amelia!” A woman’s voice filled the air.

  Amelia turned to see Ethel Beane moving toward her. Her husband, Edward, was one step behind.

  “Ethel, it is you.” Amelia grasped the hands of her friend. Had it been only four days ago they’d pranced around the first-class deck together, taking in its opulence?

  “Amelia, do you think the ship will go down?”

  “Maybe not. Maybe it will only sink so far. They say it’s unsinkable after all. Still, I promised a friend I’d get in a lifeboat just the same.” Amelia thought about mentioning Quentin’s name but realized Ethel wouldn’t know whom she spoke of.

  Ethel looked to Edward and then back to Amelia. “I left my jewels on the nightstand and my beautiful linens and embroideries in my bride’s trousseau.”

  “Ethel, that’s not what’s important. You must go with Amelia and get in the lifeboat,” Edward urged.

  “Are you sure?” she looked to her husband.

  Edward smiled. “It’s good-bye for a little while.”

  Noticing the next lifeboat was filling, Amelia led her aunt to its side.

  Looking back, she noticed the deck was nearly empty. Many of the women had stayed on the deck above, she guessed.

  An officer approached. “It is your turn now, miss.” Amelia stepped in, helped by the man’s guiding hand. Her feet caught on the tackle and oars, but she righted herself. The lifeboat swayed. Aunt Neda gasped and clung to Amelia. They hurried to their seats, and she gripped the wooden bench with her hands.

  She sat in the boat, shivering, her aunt near her. Ethel was in the seat in front of her.

  “Any more ladies?” one of the officers called out.

  As Amelia looked around, she saw that they were among the crew, some stokers, and a few men passengers. Her heart pounded. Maybe Quentin would have been able to get on board if he were near. She scanned the decks but didn’t see him—hardly saw anyone.

  The call for ladies followed again. One sailor looked up and pointed. Amelia looked up and noticed C.J. Walpole looking down from the deck above.

  “Any ladies on your deck?” the sailor called up to him.

  C.J. looked around “No. None.”

  “Come now, you sir. We still have room.”

  C.J. hesitated. “But my son. He told me to go to the first-class promenade, but I’m afraid I got lost. He’s going to be looking for me. Both my sons will be looking for me.”

  Amelia stood, placing a hand on her aunt’s shoulder to balance herself. “Please, Mr. Walpole, I am here. We’ll find your son—your sons—together later, but for now please come on our boat, there is room.”

  He paused for only a brief second and then hurried down the stairs and climbed into the lifeboat. Behind him a young couple with a baby climbed in, too.

  “Did you see Quentin?” Amelia asked.

  C.J. lowered his head. “No, I was with Damien. I told him to find his brother. He told me to go to the promenade. What if he goes there and doesn’t find me?”

  “He’ll know. He’ll know you are safe. Perhaps they even got in boats, too. I heard they were loading men on the other side.”

  Even as Amelia said those words, she knew it wasn’t the truth. She could tell by the look in C.J.’s eyes he knew, too, but neither said a word.

  “Edward, you should join us!” Ethel called.

  “I’ll wait for the next one, darling. I want to help these others first.”

  An officer in a long coat strode by. “Lower away. Once afloat, row around to the gangway. Wait there, and you’ll receive orders.”

  “Aye, aye, sir!” a sailor’s voice called. Then with soft swinging, they began their descent.

  “I love you, Edward!” Ethel called up to her husband, waving. He smiled, but he didn’t wave back. Amelia could tell he was trying to stand strong. Trying to hold in his emotion.

  Her eyes moved to the old man as they lowered. She didn’t know who was supporting whom with their gaze, but it helped to know there was another person whose heart ached for the same people she ached for.

  The boat continued down in jerks. The ropes squeaked under the strain of the boat laden with people. One side started to lower faster than the other. Amelia gripped her seat, praying they wouldn’t spill into the icy waters.

  The crew in the boat called to the sailors above. “Lower aft!’ Lower stern!” The boat leveled out. “Lower together!”

  They passed by brightly lit cabins, empty of their residents.

  Light from the portholes brightened their faces for a moment until darkness enfolded them again. It was a slow journey through the levels, and Amelia thought her heart would pound out of her chest.

  As they descended, a hissing roar sounded and a rocket sped into the sky. It burst in the air, filling the blackness with what looked like a thousand candles. A second rocket followed, and not much later a third. Amelia’s stomach clenched as she watched.

  “They’re signaling for help,” Aunt Neda whispered, only loud enough for Amelia to hear.

  When they were near the water, someone pointed upward. They watched as a boat above them lowered in jerks. It continued downward until it was level with B deck. Women and children climbed over the rail, filling the boat quickly. Soon that boat began to be lowered, too.

  Amelia looked to another woman who was sitting across from her, a stewardess with a black dress and a white apron and cap. Beside them, the ship groaned as waters engulfed the Titanic.

  “Look how far down she’s sunk,” Amelia whispered to her aunt. Stretching out before and behind them more lit portholes glimmered … from under the water. Dear Lord, help us all.

  Finally, they reached the water and floated with the ropes still connected. The officers worked quickly to free them, slicing the ropes with their knives. The boat from above bore down. Finally, the knives sliced through, and they drifted into the dark waters.

  “Amelia, do you think Edward will make it?” Ethel asked.

  “Of course, Ethel, of course.” But as a shiver moved up her spine, Amelia knew that if he did, it would be nothing short of a miracle.

  CHAPTER 26

  Quentin thought about finding his father and brother, but instead it was Damien who found him. A hiss and loud bang sounded as a rocket shot into the air. An explosion of white stars filled the sky. The sparkles of lights tumbled toward the ship as Damien approached.

  Damien looked to his brother. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

  Quentin sighed. “Where’s Father?”

  Damien shrugged. “You care?”

  “Of course I care.”

  “After all these years?” Damien asked.

  Quentin studied his brother’s eyes. Damien hated him, but even he knew Quentin wouldn’t leave their father helpless. He guessed their father was on one of the lifeboats. There was no other reason for his brother to be so calm. Knowing that caused Quentin to release a breath.

  “Tell me, Quentin.” Damien held his arms behind his back as he strode closer. “Tell me, what did Father say to you today?”

  “When?”

  “When he settled you into your new stateroom. Did he promise you half of his kingdom once again? The half of the half that remained?”

  Quentin thought back to the day—had it only been just this morning? His father had promised many things, but he had focused not on what he could get. He only wanted to think about them being together.

  “I told him I didn’t want anything. I asked for a job at one of the shipping depots.”

  “Of course you did.” And with that Damien lunged forward.

  A flash of silver caught Quentin’s eye. A knife! A second later it plunged into his leg.

  Pain shot through him. More pain shot through his heart. His brother … how could his brother do this? Wasn’t it bad enough the
y were going down on the ship? A small cry escaped his lips.

  “Why?” A moan escaped his lips.

  “Why? You weren’t the one who had to look into our father’s eyes every day and see emptiness there. To know that what I offered wasn’t enough. To know I wasn’t enough.”

  “This has nothing to do with you!” Quentin gripped his leg, and blood flowed over his fingers. My leaving had nothing to do with you. So don’t do this. Don’t make this about you!” He hobbled backward, attempting to put space between himself and his brother. He felt light-headed, and the deck around him seemed to sway. Amelia. At least she was safe. He could die tonight knowing he’d done at least one good thing.

  “It’s not about me, Brother. If it was, I wouldn’t do this,” Damien hissed. Then he bent over, lowered his shoulder, and rushed forward. Quentin gasped and tried to turn, to run, bracing for the blow, but it was no use. The wind escaped his lungs, and he felt himself falling, just as he’d fallen into the pond so long ago.

  With all the strength in him, Damien lowered his shoulder and rushed his brother. He connected with Quentin’s sternum. Quentin’s breath escaped in a low grunt.

  Around him voices stilled as passengers and crew all turned. Gasps filled the air.

  Damien stepped back, meeting Quentin’s eyes with his. He expected to see anger there but instead noted defeat.

  “You think you deserve this, don’t you?” The words seethed through clenched teeth. “I’ll show you what you deserve.”

  He pulled back a hand again, balling his fist. He ignored the blood already seeping through Quentin’s pants. Then, just as his fist was to connect with Quentin’s jaw, his younger brother jerked his head. Damien’s hand smashed the metal wall of the salon.

  “Listen. Do you really want it to end like this? We’re both going to die tonight as it is.” The words shot from Quentin’s mouth.

  “Not if I can help it!” Grabbing his brother around the waist, Damien spun Quentin around, plowing him toward the rail of the A deck. A woman’s scream split the air, but Damien wasn’t sure if it was from the scuffle or from the tilt of the ship as it plunged deeper into the water.

  Releasing slightly, Damien felt Quentin stagger back. He attempted to put weight on his injured leg, but it crumpled.

  Struggling for breath, Quentin leaned forward, pressing his hands on his knees. “Damien, please! I ask your forgiveness again.”

  “I forgive you, Quentin.” With those words came tears. “Now I just pray you can forgive me.”

  Then, with all the strength in him, Damien rushed forward. Arms opened, he wrapped them around Quentin’s legs and lifted. Damien jerked upward, lifting, pressing, pushing.

  A cry escaped Quin’s lips as his calves caught on the rail, but there was nothing to keep him from falling.

  Damien released. Shock registered on Quin’s face. His arms flailed as if he swam through the air. The crowd called out protests. Quentin’s body hit the deck below with a thud.

  Damien turned and rushed down the steps, taking them two at a time.

  His brother still struggled for consciousness as he approached.

  “Why?” Quentin murmured.

  Instead of answering, Damien turned the knife and struck the handle against the side of his brother’s head. Quentin’s head fell back onto the deck. His eyes closed and he let out a moan. He’d been waiting a long time to do that. A gasp escaped Damien’s lips as he realized what he’d done. He pressed his lips together and pushed against his brother’s shoulder, ensuring he was indeed unconscious.

  Fellow passengers pointed, but Damien paid them no mind. From the moment he knew the ship was going to sink, he also knew what he had to do.

  Hunching down, Damien mustered all his strength, and he picked up Quentin’s limp form. His brother was lighter than he’d thought, and Damien realized how hard the last few years had been on him. With staggering steps, he carried his younger brother to the nearest lifeboat, which was only half full. The sailor lifted his hand. “Women and children only.”

  “I saw men being loaded on the other side. I’m not asking to get in. But my brother’s been injured by another man. It’ll be too hard for me to carry him all the way over there. Won’t you just let me lay him in?”

  “I’ll care for him,” a seated woman said.

  The sailor appeared unsure, but Damien didn’t hesitate. He rushed over and placed his brother into the floor of the boat, at the woman’s feet. Then, not waiting for a response, he turned and jogged away as quickly as he could. With each step, he asked God to forgive him for his lie.

  His brother had been found. His father couldn’t lose him again. To do so would break his father’s heart. For the last twenty-one years, he’d always been the one to care for his father’s interest. There was no use stopping now.

  Damien neared the promenade deck, looking for his father, but he didn’t see him.

  Maybe he’d made it into one of the boats. He hoped so. It was the only reason why his father wouldn’t be here. Unless … Damien considered how easily his father got lost. Why hadn’t he walked him to a boat himself? Why had he left to search for Quentin instead? Did I make a mistake?

  Passengers filled the decks. People cried out in despair as they realized the decks were full and there were only a few more lifeboats.

  A young man leaped into the next lifeboat, jumping ahead of the ladies in line. The sailor onboard leveled his pistol. “I’ll give you just ten seconds to get back onto that ship before I blow your brains out!”

  “Please, my father is waiting for me in New York. My mother just died. He needs me.”

  “For God’s sake, be a man. We’ve got women and children to save.”

  With his head hung low, the young man climbed from his seat.

  “Look, another one!” someone shouted, pointing. Another man was curled on the floor behind a seat, hiding. The sailor grabbed his arm and pulled him up, shoving him back onto the deck. Angry cries filled the air as men turned their fists on him. Wincing, Damien turned away.

  Just then a steward approached. His eyes were wide, desperate.

  He grabbed Damien’s arm. “Can someone help me, please?”

  “What’s the problem?”

  “There are women and children below! I need help bringing them up. I can’t do it alone!”

  Damien nodded. “I’ll follow you and bring up a group.”

  He was thankful the lights were still on as he followed the man through a maze of tunnels. When they reached the third-class staterooms, the halls were filled with people. Water sloshed around their ankles.

  “Why are they still here?” he asked the steward. The liner was listing to the side, and still they remained by their things. Maybe they believed some safety device would kick in and they’d all be saved.

  Damien rushed toward an older man. “You have to leave your suitcase.”

  “I can’t. It has everything. All I own. I’ll wait.” He lifted his chin in determination. “When I can bring my things, I’ll come.”

  “You’ll die if you don’t come!” he said. But the man wouldn’t relent.

  He approached other people, urging them to follow, but they couldn’t seem to understand English.

  “I come with you, ja!” a man called out then spoke in German to those near him as he rushed forward with his family. Tears filled Damien’s eyes as he glanced at the man’s wife and their children. More passengers saw what was happening and joined them.

  With Damien leading the way, they walked up the stairs to the third-class lounge. Next they passed the well deck, and soon the second-class library. Along a stretch of corridor they moved past the surgeon’s office. Then he led them into the private dining salon and finally to the grand staircase. Mothers urged children to walk faster as they climbed to the top, but even then he knew it wasn’t any use. What good had his help accomplished? They would all still die in the icy waters. There would be no use in going back below to lead any more up. They all had to wait now
. Wait until God’s angels carried them to heaven.

  When no boats remained, Damien knew his time on earth neared the end. Like a moth to the light, he moved toward the orchestra that still played on the deck. A hymn started that he recognized, and his voice lifted with the others standing there. As he sang, he looked around at the men who still stood on the ship. Major Butt, Colonel Astor, Mr. Case, Mr. Thayer, Mr. Moore, and Mr. Widener. All multimillionaires. Around them stood hundreds of other men. At that moment, money did not matter. Status did not matter. Rich or poor, they would die together.

  He approached Colonel Astor. “Sir, have you seen my father?”

  “Damien, yes. Yes, I believe I have. I saw him in one of the lifeboats as it was rowing away. There were no more women near, so they invited him in.” Colonel Astor smiled bravely.

  Why hadn’t the colonel joined them?

  “Thank you.” The words escaped in a breath. His father was safe—or as safe as one could be on the waters. His brother, too, was in a boat. And Amelia? Quentin had seen to it she had made it. As much as his brother still angered Damien, Quentin had done the right thing. And maybe … maybe with Amelia by his side, he would continue to do so. Damien had hope in that. He would not be there to see it, but he prayed they would be there to care for the old man.

  His lip curled up in a small smirk. It was the first time he’d allowed his father to travel without him. Maybe his father wasn’t as delicate as he’d thought.

  The ship creaked under his feet and sank lower. The deck tilted slightly, and the orchestra played another song. Damien lifted his voice with a few of the others. The rest stood around in stony silence, no doubt a thousand thoughts and worries filling their minds.

  God of mercy and compassion!

  Look with pity on my pain:

  Hear a mournful, broken spirit