“Too close for you, sir, perhaps.”
“Almost too hot down here.”
“I don’t feel it so myself, sir.”
“Don’t suppose you do. Why, it blows stiffer than ever.”
Having had recourse several times to her “marine cordial,” the stewardess found no difficulty in getting off to sleep; indeed, her stertorous breathing in the adjoining cabin soon assured Miss Chain and Miss Dove that they might venture to visit Mrs Chain in her cabin unobserved once more; but for a time the dread of falling down, and the bare idea of the stewardess being awake, kept them from active exertion. Still, if that frightful snore they were assailed by was real and no sham, they could both creep along the carpeted floor and say a word or two to the poor old lady. And this they did, and were much encouraged by each other’s society. One thing they determined upon, and that was not to venture on deck, believing that Falcon entertained designs on their lives. They argued that he could easily pitch them overboard during the darkness of the night and the fury of the gale and no one be wiser, their disappearance being easily accounted for on the supposition that they had been washed overboard.
Another hour at least passed, when nought was heard save the noise of the storm and the snores of the stewardess. They listened with constant dread lest anyone should approach their cabin. Indeed, they began to indulge in the hope that they might safely get some sleep, when they were aroused by a tremendous noise as of something falling heavily. The steward, bewildered, rushed from his berth and called for help. Several sailors, with the captain, descended to find their employer nearly unconscious. Evidently he had disregarded the steward’s advice of being careful, and had pitched down the companion in his half-muddled condition. Falcon was lifted up and placed on a lounge.
“Is there no doctor on board?” asked Miss Dove, imploringly.
“No, miss,” replied the steward.
“Would a restorative be of any use?” asked Miss Chain.
“No, no, he too much cognac had,” said the captain, who was feeling Falcon’s pulse; and after doing so for some time, he said, “I tink he not live long. Ve must take him somevere; he no speak.”