‘Your wish is likely to be gratified,’ he said; ‘but the Distant Shore is a good ship, and it will be an uncommon bad storm she cannot sail through safely.’
‘With a good ship and a clever captain we have not much to fear,’ said Edgar. ‘Here’s little Eva coming for her morning romp. I should have been quite lonely on board without her.’
Edgar held out his arms, and the child ran into them. He lifted her above his head, where she laughed with delight, and looked at her father with merry eyes.
‘Pass her on to me,’ said Captain Manton; and Edgar tossed her into her father’s arms.
‘Back again,’ she cried, and she was tossed to Edgar again.
The captain watched them for a few moments as they played on the deck, and then cast an anxious look at the sky. He knew they were in for a storm, probably a bad one.
During the night Edgar heard the vessel creak and groan, and her timbers strain in a most unusual manner. The sailors were hard at work on deck, and he knew the storm must have burst upon them. He turned over in his berth, and felt thankful the Distant Shore was such a safe vessel, and her captain a trustworthy seaman.
Edgar had some difficulty in reaching the deck next morning. Not a single passenger was in the saloon as he staggered through, holding on first to one thing, and then another.
‘You had better keep below, sir,’ said one of the stewards; ‘you’ll stand a good chance of being blown overboard if you venture on deck. We are finishing up with a real bad storm.’
‘That’s just what I want to see,’ said Edgar.