r--went hither and thither trying to hasten the business
of getting on board--coming back, after each useless journey, to try and
soothe a screaming baby or restrain a tiny boy anxious to look over the
edge of the pier. It was only a few minutes before Cecilia had found a
mother exhausted enough to yield up her baby without much protest; and
Jim and Wally Meadows and Bob "adopted" some of the older children, and
took them off to see the band; which diversions helped to pass the time.
But it was after five o'clock before a stir went round the pier, and a
rush of officers towards a little wooden room at the foot of the gangway
told that the long-waited-for official had arrived.

"Well, we won't hurry," said Mr. Linton. "Let the married men get on
first."

There were not many who did not hurry. A few of the older officers kept
back; the majority, who were chiefly subalterns, made a dense crowd
about the little room, their long-pent impatience bursting out at
last. Passports examined, a procession began up the gangway; each man
compelled to halt at a barrier on top, where two officers sat allotting
cabins. It was difficult to see why both these preliminaries could not
have been managed before, instead of being left until the moment
of boarding; the final block strained every one's patience to
breaking-point.

The Lintons and the Rainhams were almost the last to board the ship,
having, not without thankfulness, relinquished their adopted babies. The
officers allotting berths nodded comprehendingly on hearing the names of
the two girls.

"Oh yes--you're together." He gave them their number.

"Together--how curious!" said Cecilia.

"Not a bit; you're the only unmarried ladies on board. And they're
packed like sardines--not a vacant berth on the ship. Over two thousand
men and two hundred officers, to say nothing of wives and children." He
leaned back, thankful that his rush of work was over. "Well, when I make
a long voyage I hope it won't be on a trooper!"

"Well, that's a bad remark to begin one's journey on," said Jim
Linton, following the girls up the gangway. "Doesn't it scare you, Miss
Rainham?"

"No," she said, with a little laugh. "Nothing would scare me except not
going."

"Why, that's all right," he said. His hand fell on his sister's
shoulder. "And what about you, Nor?"

The face she turned him was so happy that words were hardly needed.

"Why--I'm going back to Billabong!" she said.

CHAPTER IX