“Grub’s on the table. Come along and help yourselves. The worst is over.”
The hungry company hastened down and jostled through the doorway to the tables, upon which had been set dishes of oatmeal, potatoes, ham and eggs, and pots of coffee. The galley and pantry doors were still closed. Not a steward was visible. The passengers must help themselves. They could eat this simple fare or leave it alone.
The dining-saloon seemed empty, uncanny. Except for the steady vibration of the engines, it was as though the ship had been deserted by her crew. Such talk as went on was in low tones. There was in the air a feeling that hostile influences, unseen, unheard, but very menacing, were all around them. They ate to satisfy hunger, glancing often at the empty chairs of the commander and the chief officer of the Alsatian. O’Shea was more interested in the vacant chair of Professor Ernst Wilhelm Vonderholtz.
A few people carried trays and plates of food to their rooms, as if to make sure of the next meal. Palpitant uncertainty and dread were the emotions common to all. And during this time the Alsatian was steaming over the smooth sea, her bow pointing almost due south, her altered course veering farther and farther away from the transatlantic trade routes into a region of ocean mostly frequented by sailing-vessels and wandering tramp freighters. As Captain O’Shea and Johnny Kent returned to the upper hall the latter said with a great, resonant laugh:
“Breakfast has made a new man of me. I ain’t worried a mite about anything. My gun is in my pants pocket, and I’m pretty spry and sudden for an old codger. What’s the orders, Cap’n Mike?”
“There are some good men among the passengers, Johnny, but we will have to show them what to do. ’Tis time that the two of us held a council of war.”
They made a slow, painstaking tour of the first-cabin quarters and convinced themselves that every exit from the steel deck-houses was still securely fastened. Then they sought every window port which commanded a view of the upper decks or superstructures of the ship. They were unable to catch a glimpse, from any angle, of the canvas-screened bridge or to discover whether the captain and the navigating officers were on duty as usual. Upon the forward part of the ship they descried several seamen at work. Down below the rumble of an ash-hoist was heard. The essential business of the ship was going on without interruption.
“One trifle ye will note,” said O’Shea. “The decks were not washed down this morning.”
“The vessel looks slack, come to look at her close,” replied Johnny Kent. “A gang of sailors was paintin’ the boats and awning-stanchions yesterday, but they’ve knocked off.”
“’Tis curious how the passengers of a big steamer can be cut off from what is going on,” observed O’Shea. “I never realized how easy it was. And there’s no choppin’ a way out of these steel houses.”