Titanic: True Love Forever

Chapter 30: Capture

Arriving at Queenstown the Titanic would not dock, but would rely only on pickup barges to receive the immigrants on board the big ship, just as she had done last night at Cherbourg, the difference being that most of the passengers picked up last night were first-class dignitaries, whereas the passengers picked up at noon were uniformed immigrants intending to make a break for it in the United States.

The sun was just coming up over sea level when I sneaked down from the lifeboat and climbed aft again on D deck. More and more TCS passengers were coming to rest on the deck, among them poor women with needles and threads sewing clothes, and fathers with their children watching the sea from the railing. I draped my dark-colored turban over my head and around my shoulders. Then I sat down on a long chair in the center of the deck and hid my bare feet under a long skirt, the scarf wrapped around my face, showing only my eyes.

There was a damp, salty chill in the air, and I looked up at the American flag on the Titanic's flagpole as if I could see the Statue of Liberty's torch at once. When I disembarked I would try to buy a ticket to the U.S. The early twentieth century was the time when the foundations of modern dance were laid, and I longed to be part of this revolution that was reforming the world of dance. If I could, I would also like to visit Isabella Duncan or St. Denis and see their dances in person.

It must have been a feast of beauty.

I looked out over the sea at the sun, a new day had begun in this era, and looked up to the upper decks, empty, not like the bustle of third class, the so-called aristocratic magnates were probably still asleep at this hour. I didn't think Kalhokri could find me, was he powerful enough to have his servants on the third class deck, lifting women's scarves one by one, just to look for a thief?

I rubbed my somewhat stiff fingers, then hid my hands in my cuffs and sat lazily with my body bent in a daze. I couldn't relax my mind at all until I was off the ship, thinking this was an adventure where absolutely nothing could go wrong, and then there was that extra unlucky bastard Hockley, chasing me so much that I was almost about to be locked in the crew cabin and drowned. I was going to write a note and stuff it in the captain's wheelhouse, and it had better say, in blood, that in the early morning hours of April 15, 1912, your damned ship will sink, which, by the way, I might add, by hitting an iceberg. But when I came out in the morning, I saw that a crew member was already posting sailing speeds on the bulletin board.

Yesterday the Titanic was sailing at 621 kilometers, a speed that is not meritorious for a cruise ship of this age, so that guy Ismay will soon be running around "advising" the millionaire captain, who is about to retire honorably, that the ship can go faster, what, you said you received a note predicting the sinking? It must be a rival company coming to mess up the Titanic, speed it up, speed it up again, and get the great RMS on the front page of all the newspapers.

Writing such unreliable stuff is tantamount to writing for nothing. Who believes it?

After sitting there for most of the day until the entire ship was bathed in warm sunshine, I decided it was about time. I got up and walked to the aft rail and looked out, hoping to see the docks of Queenstown. It was probably not time yet, and all I could see past it was a vast expanse of ocean.

Behind me came the familiar sound of arguing, a man shouting angrily, "No Jack you can't get off the boat, that woman is just a liar, are you going to give up this rare opportunity? We're going to America together, that's where you're from."

"Brigio, calm down, just listen to me for a second." Then came Jack's voice, trying his best to calm his hysterical friend in an attempt to quiet the somewhat cockney fellow.

"How do you expect me to calm down, you're the one who convinced me to go to America and now you're getting off the boat, you coward." Brigio raged, living as if it wasn't his friend who was getting off the boat, but his girlfriend.

"Willing to bet, it's about a man's commitment." Jack replied leisurely, not feeling the least bit bad about it.

"You're not in love with her, what kind of commitment is that."

I turned around just in time to see Bridgetteau grab Jack by the shoulders, seemingly intending to use the position to shake that stupid decision of Jack's away as hard as she could. Shaking my head in boredom, then calmly ignoring the pair of arguing good-for-nothing motorcycle oils behind me, I continued to lean against the railing and look off into the distance, muttering, "Quinceañera, Quinceañera ......"

"Bridgetteo, believe in yourself, you can survive in America on your own, your mom would be proud of you." Jack told him with a smile, a happy-go-lucky to the point of heartlessness.

"Get off the boat if you want to, I don't care about you." Brigio shouted sadly, followed by the sound of rude footsteps stomping hard on the wooden deck far away.

The world went quiet, and with Bridgio in this state, it was hard for me, who was unable to protect myself, to trick him into getting off the ship. It seems like it's not that easy to be a savior, since you don't have the powers of a hero, no one will believe you. If it's the priest on the ship who comes to persuade people to get off the ship, then the effect will be much better than me as a third class passenger, the religious are always easy to be fooled.

"Hi, Emily." Jack came up next to me, carrying a sack that probably contained all of his belongings. The sea breeze blew his short blonde hair back and his blue eyes were all sunny smiles.

I hastily reached up and pulled the scarf around my face in an attempt to wrap myself more tightly, my eyes darting around for a second in fear that someone would hear Jack's name. Although the old poodle or the unlucky man wouldn't be coming to the third class deck, it was nearing disembarkation and it was always good to be careful.

"Uh-huh." I responded to him vaguely, making sure there weren't any of those pursuers around before dropping my head.

"I'm getting off the ship, we may not get a chance to see each other again." Jack set the sack down at his feet, he opened it and pulled out his sketchbook along with a charcoal pencil, "I was hoping to do a full body portrait of you before we get off the ship, your body is very well proportioned, close to perfect." He paused in his words, a flash of embarrassment at having said the wrong thing flashed across his face and he immediately corrected himself, "Don't mind me, no offense, I'm just addicted to drawing, I don't usually do that."

Not bothering to explain to him that I was going to get off the boat together later, I leaned directly against the railing and placed my hands graciously on the railing behind me, raising my chin in a muffled voice, "Go ahead and draw it, don't sell it for a dime a sheet when you're done, I'm not that cheap."

But it's just a full-body portrait, or with my face wrapped up, it's not like I'm going to paint a nude picture, and anyway, since I haven't seen the Port of Queenston yet, I'll just think of it as practicing my dance stance.

"That's not going to work, I'll keep it in my collection, it'll be worth a fortune later when I'm famous." Jack said self-mockingly as he happily turned a new page before slowly backing away, the playfulness in his expression fading as a sense of professional seriousness returned to him.

I was impassive, my tilted head tilted to one side as I gazed earnestly into the distance, intending to make a run down at the first sight of Queenston, reach the third class gangway hatch, and be the first to get on the connecting barge back to shore as soon as they opened it.

Jack finally chose to crouch down on the deck not far from the railing, and he looked down at his sketchbook as he began to outline lines on it with a charcoal pencil in one hand. I leaned against the railing in a position that didn't flinch from start to finish, the sea breeze ruffling out the few strands of my long blonde hair wrapped in a bandana, and I blinked easily as, in the distance, the Queensland horizon sank into a layer of white haze, as hazy as a mirage.

The tension came over in a moment of relief; being on a sinking ship all the time you feel like you're in a constant anxiety mania, and that's not a good feeling at all.

I loosened my grip on the railing and the ship began to slow down, the engines running at a speed that began to prepare it for a stop. Without waiting for it to actually come to a standstill, I had jumped in front of Jack, who was concentrating on his drawing, startled, and he rushed to say, "Wait, I'm not done drawing, Emily."

"We'll draw when we get off the boat, hurry up and get off the boat." I lifted the sack for him and hastily grabbed his sleeve and dashed for the cabin, the barge had already departed in Queensland and would soon be approaching the Titanic, which had stopped its engines.

"Hey, the ship isn't sinking and you seem to be running for your life." Jack had an uncertain look on his face as I dragged him along, and soon we were running inside the ship, straight in the direction of the gangway door.

I slowed my pace a bit and turned my head to him seriously, "Do you believe me when I say this ship is going to sink."

Jack saw how solemn I was, and he put away his own easy smile and was silent for a moment, then he raised his right hand endearingly and waved it, his head shaking solemnly along with it. "I don't believe it, it's the Titanic."

Even the leading man doesn't believe it, and what else would you expect from any of the crew on this ship that would believe such curse-like nonsense? I yanked on him with ferocious force, "Believe it or not, get off the ship right now."

"God, you're practically a jailbird of a dock porter, I'll go by myself, let me do it." He jerked his own hand back in a hurry, and snatched the sack from my hand, cradling it in his arms before nodding at me with a playful grin, "Since you think the ship is going to sink, you must get off the ship, ladies first."

Empty-handed, I turned right around and walked away, not having time to nag him about his family. Jack immediately followed, and he asked curiously, "Are you cruise-phobic, some people always think there's going to be an accident on whatever he's traveling on."

While I don't think accidents happen in any mode of transportation I take, I've already been in a plane crash once and don't want to experience another cruise ship crash in my life. I replied perfunctorily, "Yes, yes, yes, yes, I get a headache when I see any mode of transportation that runs on the ground and swims in the water and flies in the sky."

We ran to the gangway door where a crew member was looking down with a pocket watch in his hand, and I recognized him as the ticket inspector who had picked up passengers from Southampton Harbor yesterday to board the ship. He looked at us both curiously, and dutifully asked, "Are you here to pick up your relatives?" This is where passengers board the ship.

"No, we disembark." Jack naturally walked over to him and extended his hand to introduce himself, "Jack Dawson."

The ticket inspector shook his hand and responded in kind, "Moody."

"I hope we don't have to wait in line later." Jack was very self-effacing in his request, he looked like he didn't feel constrained when dealing with anyone.

"It's not even twelve thirty yet, so you guys wait a bit." Moody finished, then went to the hatch and whispered to the ship's doctor, who was sitting off to the side taking notes on something; the ship's doctor was in charge of immigration inspections.

Jack and I had to stand aside and wait for the door to open. The faster the time passed, the more relaxed I felt, until Jack suddenly whispered to me, "Do you recognize that man? He seems to have been watching us."

What man? Unprepared, I followed his gaze to the other side, and for a moment I almost wanted to pull my legs out and run; it was Lovejoy. He didn't look like he recognized me right away, instead he was standing on the other side of the walkway with a piece of paper in his hand, he glanced at the paper in his hand before observing Jack with a particularly eerie expression.

Without moving, I tugged my scarf a little harder, wrapping my entire face tightly around it, and then took a few steps back, hiding my entire body behind Jack. Jack had a puzzled look on his face, and he too sensed the old poodle watching him.

That method of observation was about as uncomfortable as a policeman watching a thief who hadn't stolen anything yet.

Lovejoy didn't seem to see anything useful as he slowly approached, Jack watching him warily. Quickly, Lovejoy stepped in front of Jack, and he glanced at him as if he was sure of something before walking over with a blank face. I kept my head down and waited for him to walk past.

It was a long time before the old poodle finally turned and walked past us.

I breathed a sigh of relief, it looked like he didn't recognize me, and I didn't want to have to find a way to avoid him before we got off the ship. If I missed the disembarkation, the Titanic's next stop would be hitting an iceberg, and I didn't want to be swimming in -2 or -3 degree water.

"He's looking at me weird." Jack said unhappily, looking uncomfortable with the old poodle's translucent light-like stare.

"Maybe he's presbyopic, so he looks at everyone like that." I tapped my foot on the deck a little nervously, looking at the cabin door that hadn't been opened yet, and mentally estimating roughly the time, twelve-thirty for the connecting barge to arrive outside. Moody, the ticket inspector, double-checked the watch in his hand again, and he walked over to the cabin door and put his hand on it ready to open it. I couldn't help but take a step forward, wanting to get to him first and be the first one out, when a cold hand suddenly grabbed me, and a hoarse, pale voice came from beside me, "Miss Emily, it's unfortunate that we meet again, Mr. Hockley doesn't want you to get off the ship."

I looked up to see the corners of Lovejoy's sagging mouth as he frowned with a cold look on his face. Moody had already opened the door and there was a pick-up barge parked outside, waiting to put up a gangway for passengers to disembark.

"Let go." I made a strong hand attempt to shake Lovejoy's hand, but the other man's grip was so strong that it hurt to struggle and I huffed.

"I don't think that's something an inveterate shoplifter lady should say, you're under arrest, young lady." Lovejoy was dragging me forward, attempting to drag me away from the entrance hatch.

"Let go of me." I went to break his fingers, the boat to disembark was right behind me, and if Lovejoy dragged me away, I'd barely make it off the boat again.

"Wait, what are you doing, let go of her." Jack rushed over and stopped Lovejoy.

"So you have an accomplice, looks like the head picket will be happy to catch another rat inhabiting the ship." The old poodle twitched the corners of his own wrinkled mouth as he pushed Jack out of the way. "But for now you'd better come with me, young lady, and as for this boy I can leave him alone for now."

I was going crazy, was it necessary to go after him so hard for a broken watch? I have never seen stingy to such extreme man, even send a heart of the ocean, the insurer wrote or his father's name, which is called send, simply is borrowed you wear over a dry addiction only.

That bastard deserves to wear a cuckold, curse him to wear a cuckold for ten thousand years.

With Lovejoy prepared, I couldn't get his tweezer-like hands off me, so I winked at Jack and said, "Get off the boat first, Jack."

First off is one.

Jack looked at me baffled, and with an incredulous look on his face he said, "You in big trouble? Emily."

"Forget about me for a second, get off the boat." I couldn't care less about him if I ran later, there wasn't a definite probability that I'd end up dead if I accidentally stayed on the boat, but Jack really didn't get off the boat, and there was no turning back on his outcome.

"No way, ladies first. Please let her go." Jack didn't hesitate to block the old poodle's path, his hand outstretched with the intention of separating us. The old poodle threw a quick punch and made his way to Jack's stomach, who nimbly stepped back to avoid it with a good, close call look on his face.

Moody turned around to see what we were up to and he bellowed, "What's going on, no noise here.

"

The old poodle gave the ticket inspector an expressionless look, he always spoke with an unhurried and impatient cadence, "I don't think that's in your purview, Mr. Sixth Deputy."

I snapped my head down the moment he shifted his gaze and my mouth opened to bite him hard on the arm, Lovejoy didn't notice for a moment and let go with a yelp of pain. I turned and ran for the hatch, only for the ticket inspector to think the scene was out of place then others stood in front of the hatch to stop me saying, "Stop, what's going on?"

By the time I explained it to you, I'd probably be in a jail cell listening to an interrogation session.

The old poodle quickly chased after me, intent on grabbing me again, and Jack, who hadn't figured out the situation yet, ran up after me, and it was as chaotic as a disaster scene.

I ducked and scurried under the old poodle's armpits, there was no time to push that Mr. Sixth Mate out of the way and run for the boat, and I shouted to Jack, almost commandingly, as I brushed past him, "Get out of the boat for a minute, Jack."

Jack looked puzzled as I ran past, and he strangely mumbled, "What?"

Then spreading his feet, he scrambled with all the strength in his body and made a mad dash for the road he had just come from. I swear I'm going to compete in the Olympic sprints when I get off the boat, and I'm definitely a record-breaking champion. Resuming my sprint out of the walkway, I jumped down the stairs a few steps at a time, and the D-floor lounge deck appeared in front of me, and someone behind me seemed to call out to me, so how could I have time for such a trivial matter.

To me, anything like the thief Calhokli or the old poodle was irrelevant except for getting off the ship. Someone came scrambling up behind me as if they had caught me by the turban, and I really admired the old poodle's dedication to dying and not retiring when he was so old that he could still run so fast.

I graciously reached down as I ran and uncovered the bandana and threw it back, if you want it. With my messy curls all flying out of the way, I sprinted to the railing on the aft deck, grabbed the railing with my hands and lowered my head down to see the migrants on the feeder boat starting to be inspected waiting to board, the feeder boat was also carrying a lot of cargo mail and looked very crowded. In the distance was the Quincytown wharf and I could see the shore clearly.

Titanic's draft line to reach the D deck is close to twenty meters high, diving diving may be concussion, I do not have the time to calculate the height here, skirt a lift up the whole person will be out of the cross, intend to jump directly into the sea, the barge is also not used, I swam to the shore by myself to forget.

I don't just want to get off the boat early, why would so many unlucky things happen.

"What are you doing?"

A disbelieving, high-pitched question came from behind me.

Jumping into the sea.

I grabbed the railing without even shaking it off and managed to get one foot out, now that I wasn't mentally focused, jumping into the ocean in the wrong position would be suicide. I'm going as fast as I can, and the moment I let go of my hands, I take a deep breath and hold it, preparing myself for the water. Before I could jump, a pair of strong arms behind me wrapped around my waist, almost pulling me off the railing.

I couldn't react back for a moment, a little confused by the man behind me holding me in a death grip, a familiar perfume odor lingered in my nose, and I heard the man holding me close to panic, "You're going to jump into the sea, planning to kill yourself?"

I managed to turn around and the corner of my mouth seemed to brush against something, only to see a close-up view of Carl close at hand, his breathing disorganized and his amber eyes all horribly bloodshot. His hands were so strong they were like a hard prison locking me in a death grip.

I nearly strangled him to death, and I quickly hit his arm vigorously, saying angrily, "Let go of me, I'm going down."

He pushed even harder, his muscles were trembling, his anger made him look especially aggressive, and he barked at the old poodle who rushed up, "Get that doctor over here, and tell him there's a patient."

Lovejoy immediately ran back, and I intuited that something was wrong and tried even more desperately to get out of Carl's grip. A couple of the deck crew had already run over, and they were at a loss as to what to do as they watched Carl and I practically roll into a ball. Lovejoy led a quick run to us with a doctor who had a syringe in his hand and stuck it into my hand.

It wasn't fun at first glance, and I raised my hand in a hurry, intending to avoid the tube, only for Carl to snap my hand, allowing the needle to be stuck smoothly into my veins.

As if sensing my palpitating unease, the man holding me suddenly whispered, "The ship won't sink."

Do you think you're an iceberg that says it won't sink and it automatically avoids it?

I suddenly felt some difficulty in breathing, a blinding sensation in front of my eyes, and Karl's voice turned into a kind of distorted tinnitus. He said to the crew members, "She's mentally unstable and was planning to kill herself just now."

Staying on the ship was suicide for me.

With great effort I reached out and tapped Carl on the shoulder, he frowned and scowled, and in anger I used the last of my strength to punch him in the f*****g face.

I f**k you won't sink.

The next thing I knew, my eyes went black and I was pulled into the deepest depths of the ocean, completely unconscious.