“We came to be stowaways,” he maintained stubbornly, “and stowaways never come out for a long time.”
On almost any other day they would probably have been discovered within a very short time, as the stateroom would have been claimed, but owing to the severity of the storm, very few of the cabins were occupied, and so it was more than half an hour before the stewardess bethought herself to knock gently at the door, to inquire if the inmate of number fifty-two wanted anything. In the meantime the twins, who, having come out for a good time, were determined to have one, had opened their parcel, and spread out the refreshments, which consisted of cake, bananas, and chocolate.
“We bought them this morning when we were out with Miss Heath,” Geraldine told Gretel. “She didn’t know what we wanted them for, but Jerry said we were going to have a feast, and she knows she isn’t to interfere if it isn’t lesson time. Then we met your brother, and he talked to Miss Heath, and I guess she forgot all about us. It’s pretty early for supper, but I think we may as well begin, don’t you, Jerry?”
“Ye—es,” said Jerry, eying the array of good things rather dubiously; “I’m not very hungry yet, though; suppose we wait a little longer. I wonder what makes the boat swing so much.”
“It’s because it’s getting rough,” said Gretel. “I was on a boat once with Father when it was very rough. We went down to Pleasure Bay on an excursion, and before we got back a storm came up, and the boat rocked dreadfully. Some of the people on board were seasick, but Father and I liked it.”
At that moment the steamer gave a sudden plunge, which sent the children nearly off their feet. Geraldine put down the piece of chocolate she had just begun to eat, and turned rather pale.
“I guess we will wait a little while longer,” she agreed. “Don’t you think it’s rather hot in here? Let’s open the window.”
But the opening of the window proved a more difficult task than the children had expected, and while Jerry and Gretel were still struggling with a refractory fastening, Geraldine suddenly rolled over in a little heap on the bed, in the midst of the refreshments.
“What’s the matter?” demanded Jerry, looking a little frightened.
“I—I don’t know,” faltered Geraldine, with white lips; “I feel very queer; I think I’m ill.”