Miss Perceval turned angrily away, and summoned her maid to receive a multitude of new directions. “Mary, tell the Captain that when I looked out last, there was scarcely any smoke coming out of the funnel, so I am sure he is saving fuel, and not keeping good enough fires to carry us on! I never knew such shabbiness! Tell the engineer, that I insist on his throwing on more coals immediately. Bring me some hot water, as fast as possible! These towels are so coarse, I cannot, on any account, use them. After being accustomed to such pocket-handkerchiefs as mine, at ten guineas each, one does become particular. Can you not find a larger basin? This looks like a soup-plate, and it seems impossible here to get enough of hot water to wash comfortably.”

“She should be put into the boiler of the steam-boat,” muttered Mrs. Crabtree. “I wish them animal-magnifying [223] ]doctors would put the young lady to sleep till we arrive in London.”

“Now!” continued Miss Perceval, “get me another cup of tea. The last was too sweet, the one before not strong enough, and the first half cold, but this is worse than any. Do remember to mention, that yesterday night the steward sent up a tin tea-pot, a thing I cannot possibly suffer again. We must have the urn, too, instead of that black tea-kettle; and desire him to prepare some butter-toast—I am not hungry, so three rounds will be enough. Let me have some green tea this time; and see that the cream is better than last night, when I am certain it was thickened with chalk or snails. The jelly, too, was execrable, for it tasted like sticking-plaster—I shall starve if better can’t be had; and the table-cloth looked like a pair of old sheets. Tell the steward all this, and say, he must get my breakfast ready on deck in half an hour; but meantime, I shall sit here with a book while you brush my hair.”

The sick persecuted maid seemed anxious to do all she was bid; so, after delivering as many of the messages as possible, she tried to stand up and do Miss Perceval’s hair, but the motion of the vessel had greatly increased, and she turned as pale as death, apparently on the point of sinking to the ground, when Laura, now quite dressed, quietly slipped the brush out of her hand, and carefully brushed Miss Perceval’s thin locks, while poor Mary silently dropped upon a seat, being perfectly faint with sickness.

Miss Perceval read on, without observing the change of abigails, till Harry, who had watched this whole scene from the cabin-door, made a hissing noise, such as grooms do when they currycomb a horse, which caused the young lady to look hastily round, when great was Miss Perceval’s astonishment to discover her new abigail, with a very pains-taking look, brushing her hair, while poor Mary lay more dead than alive on the benches. “Well! I declare! was [224] ]there ever anything so odd!” she exclaimed in a voice of amazement. “How very strange! What can be the matter with Mary! There is no end to the plague of servants!”

“Or rather to the plague of mistresses!” thought Laura, while she glanced from Miss Perceval’s round, red bustling face, to the poor suffering maid, who became worse and worse during the day, for there came on what sailors call “a capful of wind,” which gradually rose to a “stiff breeze,” or, what the passengers considered a hurricane; and, towards night, it attained the dignity of a real undeniable “storm.” A scene of indescribable tumult then ensued. The Captain attempted to make his voice heard above the roaring tempest, using a torrent of unintelligible nautical phrases, and an incessant volley of very intelligible oaths. The sailors flew about, and every plank in the vessel seemed creaking and straining, but high above all, the shrill tones of Miss Perceval were audibly heard, exclaiming,

“Are there enough of ‘hands’ on board? Is there any danger? Are you sure the boiler will not burst? I wish steam-boats had never been invented! People are sure to be blown up to the clouds, or sunk to the bottom of the ocean, or scalded to death like so many lobsters. I cannot stand this any longer! Stop the ship, and set me on shore instantly!”

Laura clung closer to Harry, and felt that they were like two mere pigmies, amid the wide waste of waters, rolling and tossing around them, while his spirits, on the contrary, rose to the highest pitch of excitement with all he heard and saw, till at length, wishing to enjoy more of the “fun,” he determined to venture above board. By the time Harry’s nose was on a level with the deck, he gazed around, and saw that not a person appeared visible except two sailors, both lashed to the helm, while all was silent now, except the deafening noise made by the wild waves and the stormy blast, which seemed as if it would blow his teeth down his [225] ]throat. Harry thought the two men looked no larger than mice in such a scene, and stood, clinging to the bannisters, perfectly entranced with astonishment and admiration at the novelty of all he saw, and thinking how often Frank must have been in such scenes, when suddenly a wave washed quite over the deck, and he felt his arm grasped by Mrs. Crabtree, who desired him to come down immediately, in a tone of authority which he did not even yet feel bold enough to disobey; therefore, slowly and reluctantly he descended to the cabin, where the only living thing that seemed well enough to move, was Miss Perceval’s tongue.

“Steward!” she cried, in sharp angry accents. “Steward! here is water pouring down the sky-lights like a shower-bath! Look at my band-box swimming on the floor! Mary! Tiresome creature! don’t you see that? My best bonnet will be destroyed! Send the Captain here! He must positively stop that noise on deck; it is quite intolerable. My head aches, as if it would burst like the boiler of a steam-boat! Stupid man! Can’t he put into some port, or cast anchor? How can he keep us all uncomfortable in this way! Mary! Mary, I say! are you deaf? Steward! send one of the sailors here to take care of this dog! I declare poor Frisk is going to be sick! Mary! Mary! This is insufferable! I wish the Captain would come and help me to scold my maid! I shall certainly give you warning, Mary.”

This awful threat had but little effect on one who thought herself on the brink of being buried beneath the waves, besides being too sick to care whether she died the next minute or not; and even Miss Perceval’s voice became drowned at last in the tremendous storm which raged throughout the night, during which the Captain rather increased Laura’s panic, if that were possible, by considerately putting his head into the cabin now and then to say, “Don’t be afraid, ladies! There is no danger!”