Having thus performed his duty as a guardian of sound doctrine, the old gentleman allowed himself to unbend. “Your father tells me that you had a pleasant voyage.”
“Oh, yes,” replied the youth, brightening. “It couldn't have been pleasanter — except for the collision with an iceberg. Did Robbie tell you about that?”
“He overlooked it.”
“It was such a small iceberg, I suppose it would be better to speak of it as a cake of ice. But it gave us quite a bump, and the ship came to a stop. Of course everybody's mind had been on submarines from the moment we left England, so they all thought we had been torpedoed, and there was a panic among the passengers.”
“Indeed?”
“The strangest thing you could imagine, sir. I never saw people behave like that before. The women became hysterical, especially those in the third class. Those that had babies grabbed them up and rushed into the first-class saloon, and they all piled their babies in the middle of the floor. No one could imagine why they did that; I asked some of them afterwards, and they said they didn't know; some woman put her baby there, and the rest of them thought that must be the place for babies, so they laid them down there, and the babies were all squalling, and the women screaming, some of them on their knees praying, and some clamoring for the officers to save them — so much noise that the officers couldn't tell them that it was all right.”
“A curious experience. And now, young man, may I ask what you plan to do with yourself in this new country?”
“Surely, Grandfather. Robbie wishes me to prepare for St. Thomas's, and he's going to get me a tutor.”
“Do you really intend to work?”
“I always work hard when I get down to it. I wanted to be able to read music at sight, and I have stayed at it until I can read most anything.”