Her steward’s face peered at her some hours later. He had switched on the light, but the cabin was eerie and dim.
“I didn’t like not to call you, miss, as you said,” he remarked. “But as far as gettin’ up to see the view’s concerned, there ain’t none. There’s nothin’ but fog anywhere.”
Norah uttered a disgusted exclamation.
“Oh, I did want to see the entrance!”
“Well, there ain’t no entrance neither, miss. Captain, he won’t risk tryin’ to get in—why, you can’t see your ’and in front of you. We’ve just got to lie about until the fog lifts—an’ goodness knows when that’ll be. If I was you, miss, I’d just go to sleep again till the usual time to get up—an’ if the fog clears before, I’ll come an’ tell you at once.”
“Well, if there’s nothing to see, I suppose I had better do that,” said Norah, yawning.
“There’s much worse than nothin’, miss,” the steward said, his voice as gloomy as the cabin. He went away, after turning out the light.
“It’s absolutely disgusting!” Wally declared when breakfast was over. It had been a queer meal, eaten in a kind of dim half-light; and now they were on deck, wrapped in heavy coats, yet shivering a little. All about them was a dense white wall of mist. It was impossible to see more than a few yards in any direction; people who passed them loomed dimly first, then came out of the wall more clearly, until quite visible, and in a moment were swallowed up again as their footsteps died away. The fog swung in wreaths between them as they talked, whenever a breath of light wind came; but for the most part there was no wind at all, and a heavy stillness seemed to weigh upon everything. At half-minute intervals the hoarse scream of the fog-horn roared out above their heads, in a hideous, discordant howl; and from all around them came similar shrieks, some far off, some so near that at any moment it seemed that the fog might part and show a ship drifting down upon them.
The Perseus herself was drifting. Part of the uncanny stillness was due to the absence of the familiar throb of the screw. Inch by inch she slid through the oily water, of which no trace could be seen even by peering over the side. There was nothing but mist. The wet decks were slippery with it; there was no dry corner anywhere. Through it the gigantic blue shape of the funnel loomed dimly, but its top was quite lost; they could not even see the bridge, where a double watch was being kept. The captain had not left it since the first fog-cloud had rolled up out of the sea.
“It isn’t safe to speak to an officer,” Jim declared. “Poor beggars, they’re all on duty; it must be cheery to have responsibility in this sort of weather. I found MacTavish right up in the bow, straining his eyes into the fog, and put a timid question to him—I wouldn’t have wondered if he had snapped my head off, but he was pretty civil. He says there’s not the slightest prospect yet of its lifting, unless a wind gets up—and there’s no sign of a wind!”