“Ow-oo! Ow-ootch!” screamed Judith, clasping Britomarte firmly, and burying her head in her lap.
Miss Conyers beckoned a cabin boy who was passing by, and sent him to ask Mr. Rosenthal to come to her.
And when Justin obeyed the summons, Britomarte pointed to Judith and said, laughing:
“She has seen the ghost again, and is senseless and helpless with terror. Assist me to take her down into the cabin.”
With an impatient shrug of his shoulders, Justin complied with the request. And they took Judith down and laid her on the berth of her stateroom.
“It is worse than useless to be dosing this girl with brandy. We shall teach her to drink. Go and bring me a glass of cold water,” said Miss Conyers.
And when Justin brought it she made Judith swallow it all.
“What can ail the girl, Justin? Is she losing her reason, do you think?” impatiently inquired Britomarte.
“I think she labors under an optical illusion, incident upon an abnormal condition of the nervous system. She has an excessively nervous temperament, which has been severely tried in the last fortnight,” answered Justin.
“Then I must try to have patience with her,” smiled Britomarte.