“How beautiful is youth!” remarked the Doctor.
“Yes,” said I, “youth affianced.”
Soon we also were leaning over the railing of the engine-rooms. There, in the deep abyss, at a distance of sixty feet below us, we saw the four long horizontal pistons swaying one towards the other, and with each movement moistened by drops of lubricating oil.
In the meanwhile the young man had taken out his watch, and the girl, leaning over his shoulder, followed the movement of the minute-hand, whilst her lover counted the revolutions of the screw.
“One minute,” said she.
“Thirty-seven turns,” exclaimed the young man.
“Thirty-seven and a half,” observed the Doctor, who had entered into the work.
“And a half,” cried the young lady. “You hear, Edward! Thank you, sir,” said she, favouring the worthy Pitferge with one of her most pleasing smiles.
CHAPTER XVI.
Going back to the grand saloon, I saw the following programme posted on the door:—