“A-a-and the wind!” Rhoda supplied, with difficulty. “It’s l-l-lashing at me so that I can’t—get—my breath.”
“Nor—me——either.” Amelia gasped. “I—I—I guess the Captain was right after all. He said, there was going to be a heavy gale tonight. Come, let’s go in.”
“Oh, stay just a minute longer,” Nan pleaded. “I like to see it roll. Look, see how the fish are jumping the waves! They are coming in higher and higher all the time. I wonder how this boat behaves when there is a real storm at sea.”
“One of the sailors told me this morning,” Laura volunteered, “that ‘she’s a trusty old tub’, if that will comfort you any.”
“Oh, I don’t need comforting,” Nan replied. “I’m not afraid.”
“You mean to say you wouldn’t be afraid in a storm?” Grace asked incredulously.
“Of course not.” Nan answered. “Would you?”
“I’ll tell you the answer to that later,” Grace threw over her shoulder as she made for the doors to go in. “Just now I’d rather watch this from the windows in the lounge where it’s warm.”
“We’ll be in, in a second,” Amelia called after her, “Save a place for us. Have you people seen the ship’s log?” She went on, turning to Nan. “It’s posted inside, near the elevators. There is a map of the United States, the Atlantic Ocean, and Europe with the course of our voyage marked in little lines on it. Each day the purser sticks a flag, representing our ship on this line, so that it shows where we are and how far we have traveled during the day. Underneath, there is a little weather chart telling how fast the wind is going, what the temperature is, whether or not the sea is rolling, and what might be expected for the next twenty-four hours.”
“What does it say for today,” Nan asked.