We were rudely awakened from our dreams by a sound which Lieutenant Whidbey would have called "most stupendously dreadful." We thought that the whole bottom of the ship must have been knocked off by striking a reef, and we reached the floor simultaneously.
I have no notion how my own eyes looked, but my friend's eyes were as large and expressive as bread-and-butter plates.
"We are going down!" she exclaimed, with tragic brevity.
At that instant the dreadful sound was repeated. We were convinced that the ship was being pounded to pieces under us upon rocks. Without speech we began dressing with that haste that makes fingers become thumbs.
But suddenly a tap came upon our door, and the watchman's voice spoke outside.
"Ladies, we are at Ellamar."
"At Ellamar!"
"Yes. You asked to be called if it wasn't midnight when we landed."
"But what is that awful noise, watchman?"
"Oh, we're loading ore," he answered cheerfully, and walked away.