Phil had a small fog horn, through which she blew as long as her breath held out. Then she passed it to Lillian and so down the line. The five women sat with their backs to the cabin wall for the sake of the scanty shelter. Eleanor rang a large dinner bell, which she had used on other occasions to summon the houseboat party to their meals.
For an hour they waited, in silence save for sounds made by the bell and the horn. Now and then one of the girls cried out for help. But most of the time they stared out on the water, hoping, expecting every instant to see some other craft. The dawn was long in breaking because of the fury of the storm.
Miss Jenny Ann began to think that the houseboat had drifted a much longer time than she had at first supposed. They were certainly in dangerous waters. Never in her life had she seen the breakers roll so high. It was a marvel that the "Merry Maid" did not capsize. She and the girls fully realized their danger. Yet no one of them made any outcry.
The girls were growing very tired. Now and then one of them fell asleep for a brief instant.
Over and over again in Madge's head, as she sat among her friends, so pale and silent, came the sound of the congregation singing in the little stone church near "Forest House":
"Oh, hear us, when we call to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea!"
The words brought comfort to her now.
When dawn came the storm abated. But with the passing of the storm came another and a greater danger to the "Merry Maid." A heavy fog settled down on the water. It was hardly possible to see more than a few feet ahead. No ship's crew could discover the poorly lighted craft in such a thick, impenetrable fog.
Phyllis owned a small compass. She could tell that their boat was moving southeast. The wind was at their back. It was strange that they had been able to signal no other ships. It could not be possible that they had been blown out to sea!