Satisfied by this assurance the two friends returned to their stateroom. As they reached the door which had been left open a man darted out.
“Hallo, there!” exclaimed Noel Brooke, seizing him. “What brings you in my stateroom?”
“Why, it’s Standish!” exclaimed Gerald.
“I beg your pardon,” said Samuel Standish apologetically. “I thought it was my room.”
“That isn’t very probable!” rejoined Brooke sternly.
“I assure you, Mr. Brooke, that it is the truth. I was so alarmed that I really did not know what I was about. I presumed the steamer was doomed, and wished to secure my small baggage, for I am a poor man and couldn’t afford to lose it. Of course when I looked around me I saw that I was mistaken. I hope you will pardon me. Is the fire out? Excuse my agitation.”
“There has never been any fire. Some scoundrel raised the alarm. If he should be found he would probably be thrown overboard by the indignant passengers.”
“And serves him right, too!” said the virtuous Standish. “You have no idea what a shock he gave me. I am a victim of heart disease, and liable to drop at a minute’s notice.”
“I suppose you are ready to go?” said Brooke ironically.
“Well, no, I can’t quite say that. Life is sweet, even if I am a poor man.”