On the port side of the Mariner, the first boat was already pulling the knot of young people into the little boat, seating them in the bottom, and wrapping them warmly in blankets. Adrian stretched his neck to see who else was being helped. Shelby and two other young men were being settled into the bottom of the second boat. He also recognized the crewman and his injured mate sitting in the prow of that boat. Holding his breath, Adrian searched the dark water for Mary's blonde curls.

The boat in which Adrian rode pulled in a young woman and a young man from two separate flotsam batches before reaching a violently shivering Mary. Adrian threw off his blanket and with a sailor's help, reached over to pull a sobbing Mary into the bottom of the boat and onto his lap. The sailors bunched Adrian's blanket and two more around the blubbering couple.

"Oh, Adrian, I was so scared." She snuggled into his chest and wiggled her arms around his waist. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her tightly, his face buried in her hair. The sailors all looked at each other over the couple's heads. A few brows raised among them as they speculated on this relationship.

"I know, Sweetheart." Mary blushed at the endearment, but readily admitted to herself that she was pleased. "I hated to leave you, but I had to see if I could help anyone else." He paused for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice broke. "I could ... could not find Sherlock."

Her voice barely a whisper, she consoled him, stroking his hair back from his brow, "Oh, Adrian, I am so sorry. What will you do?" He just shook his head and bent down to look her in her face. Cupping his cheeks between her hands, she gazed into his eyes. "I know you did everything you could." He gasped a piteous sob, closing his eyes. "Shh ... Shh..." She kissed him gently, tasting his salty tears.

With the pressure of her soft lips, Adrian's eyes flew open, but only for half a second. He closed his eyes again as he returned the pressure of her lips, tangling his fingers in her hair. No one in the boat thought to break up this "reunion."

Actually, the sailors feared they'd see too many such tearful scenes during this going-to-be-a-long night. The three boats made another full sweep of the area farther out to make sure they didn't miss anyone already in the water. Deferentially assisting all their new passengers/guests aboard, the sailors were more than gentle and sympathetic, realizing how much these people had lost this night.

Once aboard the Trawler, the survivors were bundled together in the crews' quarters, settled into bunks and chairs, and were served some sort of fish soup and warm beverages of their choice: Chocolate, tea, spiced wine. Those that knew each other greeted, hugged, blubbered, and commiserated with each other over those that were conspicuously absent.

Adrian, well beyond his strong-willed endurance, was curled, exhausted, in a fetal position in Princess Mary's lap. The two huddled together on a pallet on the floor. Mary was surprised at her growing affection for this man. She dozed off herself, cuddling him to her bosom, a soft smile on her lips.

As they scrambled over the railing of the sinking ship, the sailors in the boarding rescue party decided that they must go below decks to find any survivors. They started moving quickly down the wide staircase on the starboard side, calling loudly, "Can anyone hear us?" No response. "Is anyone here?"

A raspy male voice screamed, "Yes. Help us!"

"Where are you?"

"Stairs! Port side landing. Please hurry. My brother's hurt, and the fire's getting closer!"

The sailors had already started back up the steps to cross over the deck to the port side. There were flames at the staircase entrance on the port side. After a brief conference, they sailors took an axe to the wall in between the two curved staircases, hoping to come at the trapped men from behind them.

As the determined crew broke through the wall to the rear of the landing, they discovered the two "pirate" brothers sitting against the stair rail on a charred first step, the peg-legged brother holding his blood-soaked sibling's body across his lap. A couple sailors supported the wounded man and lifted him onto the deck, while a third offered a hand to the other. He waved him off.

"I'm okay ... except when trying to climb stairs. That's how we got trapped here." Although able to walk, he still needed help getting up the stairs. Sighing heavily, he continued his explanation, "After getting Dan'l up to the landing, a beam fell and struck him across the shoulders, and I couldn't pick him up and carry him."

He glanced at the crewman walking by him. "Believe me I tried." Turning a full circle, the costumed pirate shushed the sailor. "Shh...!" The sailor stopped and listened. A faint tapping could be heard, like someone knocking on a door, coming from down in the ballroom. The two men spun around and looked down the stairs.

The pirate called, "Hello?" He stepped to the edge of the landing. "Is anyone there?"

A faint call for "help" sounded from the back wall of the ball room below, where the king's stage had been erected. There was a pile of rubble there now. A rumbling and thumping came from the pile. It shifted as the water rose, and there followed a wail of pain and frustration. A weak male voice added, "We're trapped under a bunch of boards. We can't get out." There was a moment of slight splashing, and then the voice went on in a more frantic manner, "..and my friend is going under. I'm having trouble keeping his head above water.  Please hurry."

The sailor called a couple of his buddies back down to the landing. They stared out over the flooded, ruined hall. Bracing themselves for a most unpleasant experience, they hurriedly made their way down to the ball room floor. Splashing nearly waist deep across it, tossing aside debris and rubble, composed mostly of damaged chairs and tables, they tried to ignore the wash of bodies and body parts through which they must wade.

After reaching the remains of the destroyed stage, there was a muted discussion about how to go about extracting the trapped gentlemen from beneath the semi-submerged pile of lumber. There was a pitiful whimper from under the stack of wet debris. After a moment's pause, they started grabbing boards and slabs of wood, throwing them as far away as they could, literally digging into the pile seeking the poor guys buried beneath them.

If they reached for a piece of debris that was too heavy for one person to lift, it required no discussion for a second or even a third sailor to help lift it. It took only an effort of a few minutes to find the arm of one person and the back of another. One of the sailors took the hand of the exposed arm and squeezed it reassuringly. "We've got you now."

A piteous whimper of "Thank God," served as the only response. A couple of boards later, the young gentleman's upper torso was fully uncovered, exposing the awkward position he had maintained to keep his friend from drowning. One arm was extended under the second guy's torso, braced against one of the submerged boards. A sailor scooted around behind the destroyed stage to assume the part of friend "supporter."

Two of the rescue party pulled the first guy out of the pile, a few boards shifting as they lifted him free. Terribly distraught, he immediately started recklessly dragging more pieces of wood off the other survivor. A few seconds later, the sailors and the friend had uncovered the other young man, who was face down on his hands and knees, his neck stretched at an awkward angle to keep his face out of the water.

He was exhausted from having had the weight of the stage on his back and shoulders for the last couple of hours. When he was finally freed, he collapsed, nearly sinking into the fetid water after all. His friend scooped him up and carrying him in his arms slogged to the edge of the stairs and lay him gently onto the landing. He tapped his cheek and murmured, "Dave...Dave...Come on now. We've made it. Please wake up. We've still got to get off the boat."

The troop of sailors drew up next him, gently brushed him aside, and picked his buddy up and headed up the stairs with their burden.

They made their way through the hole they had torn in the back of the landing and lowered all four rescued men over the side to the waiting boat below. Once the new passengers were settled into the little vessel, they rowed hurriedly back to the trawler. The Mariner settled noisily again and dipped another few inches beneath the waves, confirming the consensus that they would find no more living souls aboard the ruined ship.

As the last rescue boat neared the trawler, a deep-toned "bellow" sounded from beyond the trawler. Several bright lights swept across the skies and another "bellow" intoned. Rounding the aft end of the trawler two brightly-lit tugs pulled alongside the trawler. A sailor aboard the little boat, mumbled disgustedly, "Salvagers!" He spat into the water. "Bloody grave robbers..."

A man's voice called "Ahoy, trawler!" and requested, "... permission to come aboard?" When acknowledged, a group of five men climbed aboard the trawler and sought out a conference with the Captain. A meeting was arranged including the Captain, the boarding party, and at his own request, Adrian, accompanied by the youngster, Shelby.

Observing the new arrivals, Adrian tended to agree with the unhappy sailor who disdained the salvagers' profession. He sat back to listen to their proposal, already devising his rebuttal and a counter-proposal.