"Don't be frightened!"
Every lady dropped her cards and turned deadly pale with terror.
Every gentleman looked up inquiringly at this judicious speaker.
"What is there to be frightened at, sir?" coldly inquired Ishmael.
"Well, you know our situation—But, ladies, for Heaven's sake, be composed. Your sex are noted for heroism in the midst of danger—"
Here, to prove his words good, one of the ladies shrieked, fell back in her chair, and covered her face with her hands.
"These ladies are not aware of any danger, sir, and I think it quite needless to alarm them," said Ishmael gravely.
"My good young friend, I don't wish to alarm them; I came down here on purpose to exhort them to coolness and self-possession, so necessary in the hour of peril. Now, dear ladies, I must beg that you will not suffer yourselves to be agitated."
"There is really, sir, no present cause for agitation, except, if you will pardon me for saying it, your own needlessly alarming words and manner," said Ishmael cheerfully, to reassure the frightened women, who seemed upon the very verge of hysterics.
"No, no, no, certainly no cause for agitation, ladies—certainly not. Therefore don't be agitated, I beg of you. But—but—don't undress and go to bed to-night. Lie down on the outside of your berths just as you are; for, look you—we may all have to take to the lifeboats at a minute's warning," said the doctor, his long, pale face looking longer and paler than ever under his round, black skullcap.
A half-smothered shriek burst simultaneously from all the women present.