"What a goose!"
"Who's a goose?" said Rollo, following her.
"I am," said the chambermaid, "for forgetting to screw up your light. But go back; you'll get wet, if you come here."
Rollo accordingly kept back in Jennie's state room, though he advanced as near to the door as he could, and looked in to see what had happened. He found that his little round window had been burst open by a heavy sea, and that a great quantity of water had rushed in. His couch, which was directly under the window, was completely drenched, and so was the floor; though most of the water, except that which was retained by the bedding and the carpet, had run off through some unseen opening below. When Rollo got where he could see, the chambermaid was busy screwing up his window tight into its place. It has already been explained that this window was formed of one small and very thick pane of glass, of an oval form, and set in an iron frame, which was attached by a hinge on one side, and made to be secured when it was shut by a strong screw and clamp on the other.
"There," said the chambermaid. "It is safe now; only you can't sleep upon the couch any more, it is so wet. You must get into your berth again. I will make you up a new bed on the couch in the morning."
Rollo accordingly clambered up into his berth again, and the chambermaid left him to himself. Presently, however, she came back with a dry pillow and bolster for him.
"What makes the ship pitch and toss about so?" said Rollo.
"Head wind and a heavy sea," said the chambermaid; "that's all."
The chambermaid then, bidding Rollo go to sleep, passed on into Jennie's state room, on her way to her own place of repose. As she went by, Maria asked if there was not a storm coming on.
"Yes," said the chambermaid, "a terrible storm."