She was only aware of voices above talking and laughing, or sailor calls being shouted out, or now and then of some one coming to look at her, and insisting on her taking food.
It was not till late in the afternoon that she awoke from what seemed like a strange long uneasy dream, and found one of the girls sitting by her and telling her she was better now.
“Yes,” said Vera, trying to raise herself, finding something over her head, and falling back on the pillow; “but what is it? Where is this?”
“This is somewhere out in the Channel, near off Guernsey, Griggs says, but we cannot put in anywhere till the gale goes down.”
“What is it? Is it a ship, then?”
“O yes,” said the girl, laughing; “a yacht, the Kittiwake. Sir Robert Audley has lent it to my brother, and we are all going to see the Hebrides and Staffa and Iona.”
“Not to take me all up there?” groaned poor Vera, in horror. “Can’t you put me out somewhere, anywhere?”
“Don’t be afraid,” was the much-amused reply. “As soon as ever we can put in anywhere, we can telegraph to Rock Quay and put you ashore to go home; but we can only run before the wind while the sea is so high. I wish you could come on deck, it is so jolly!”
“Oh! it was too dreadful!”
“Beating about in the boat! It must have been, Mr. Delrio told us.”