To keep the air in her cabin pure, Ingigerd left the door slightly ajar; and the sight of the colossal Roland, as seen from her cabin, helplessly drifting in the ocean, by no means seemed to bear out the stewards' declaration.
"There is no use concealing the fact that we are scudding under bare poles," said Hahlström.
"We are dripping oil on the water," said Wilhelm, pointing through the opening of the door to where Pander and a sailor were lowering a bag of sail-cloth filled with oil. With the heavy seas that kept sweeping down like great mountains in motion and the fearfully boiling waves accompanying the swells, the measure seemed almost ridiculous. Each instant the dead Roland, constantly sending out its long-drawn signal, which sounded more like a call for help than a warning, was raised up on a plunging mountain of water, where there seemed as little prospect of safety as when it sank into the valleys. The great steamer seemed not to know where to turn. The raging waters twisted it over now on its starboard side, now on its port side. Of its herculean might, nothing remained but its unwieldy, helpless bulk. It turned about slowly, and turned back again, and all of a sudden a fearful sea, like a thousand hissing white panthers leaping from a dark green mountain ridge, dashed over the railing.
"That was bad," said Wilhelm, slamming the door shut in the nick of time. Frederick's nerves were in a state of tension, not in a mere metaphoric sense. They produced a purely physical sensation, as of violin strings too tightly drawn.
"Is it making you nervous?" asked Hahlström.
"Somewhat," said Frederick. "I don't deny it. A man has strength and intelligence, but can't exercise either, even when danger is imminent."
"Immediate danger?" asked Wilhelm. "No, we are not there yet. In the first place, the engines will be working again pretty soon; and secondly, even if we should really have to drift and had to resort to the sails, we could count on being perfectly easy in our minds a week from now."
"What do you mean by being easy in our minds?" demanded Hahlström.
"The storm is blowing from north-northwest. A ship like this never capsizes. So, in all probability, we should be carried to the Azores, where a steamer would tow us into port. Or, perhaps, we should be driven even further south, and in a week we should be anchoring in view of the glorious Peak of Teneriffe."
"Many thanks for your Peak of Teneriffe. I have to be in New York. My daughter has an engagement there. We are under obligations to be there."