"Most fortunately—I should rather say providentially—my two companions were excellent sailors, and the boat was a good one; so after some hours of terrible uncertainty we succeeded in obtaining shelter."
"There, now, that was an adventure worth having!" exclaimed Ned, with enthusiasm. "I should have liked that!"
"Suppose you had been sea-sick?" said the scholar, gravely.
Ned looked blank. "I did not think of that," said he, rather slowly. "But were you sea-sick?"
"As much so as I could possibly be, and remain alive, I should think," replied the scholar. "I assure you, there was nothing at all romantic in the sensation."
"But were the others sick?"
"No; but they were wet to the skin for hours together, and one of them caught a fever in consequence which detained us for three weeks in a dirty little Greek town, where we were eaten up with fleas and could obtain none of the comforts of life for ourselves or our sick friend. I think you would have found that rather worse than being snowed up on the railroad."
Ned admitted that it could not have been pleasant, and, a little ashamed of his ill-humor, he made a brave attempt to overcome it, and began to ask the scholar all sorts of questions about his travels.
Meantime the progress of the train became more and more difficult. It was now dark, and when the brakeman came in to light the lamps and make up the fires, he did not give a very encouraging account of the situation. They were still some distance from the next station, which was a mile from the nearest village. They were running through a wild country where no help could be had. There were still two deep cuttings to be passed, and the storm was increasing every moment.
The gentleman began to look a little grave, and the party drew closer together around the stove. The elderly lady opened her basket and produced some biscuits and cakes and part of a cold chicken. The young lady also brought out some sandwiches, and these refreshments were distributed among the passengers, to the great satisfaction of little Ned, whose appetite was always vigorous. The party grew very social over their refreshments, and the old lady took special notice of Agatha, telling her that she had two granddaughters just about her age, whom she expected to meet that evening, if they were so fortunate as to reach the Cedar Hill station. Frank could neither eat nor join in the conversation. His heart was heavy with anxiety and self-reproach, and he felt as if he should not be able to care for anything till he could see Agatha once more in a place of safety.