“What do you suppose is the matter now, Janie?” Nancy asked anxiously.
“Fog, I imagine,” replied Jeanette sleepily.
“Had we better get up and dress?”
“What time is it?”
“About half-past two.”
“Goodness, no! Go to sleep again. If there is any danger, the big gong will be sounded.”
“How do you know? Who told you about that?”
“Sign—downstairs,” and Jeanette was fast asleep, while Nancy thought of all the stories she had ever read which dealt with the horrors of ships caught in the fogs. But after a while she too went to sleep again.
The whistle was still blowing when they got up at six o’clock, although the steamer was anchored—somewhere.
“When do we get in?” asked Nancy of a porter who passed their door just as she was peering out.