While the dog was lapping a second supply, the Kansas shifted again
with a disconcerting suddenness. The water in the cabin swirled across
the floor as the ship was restored to an even keel. The movement
dislodged the packet of letters. It fell, and Elsie rescued it a
second time. Christobal watched her with undisguised admiration.
"Really," he said, "I find you wonderful."
"Why?" Certainly she might be pardoned for seeking an explanation of
any compliment just then.
"Why? Por Dios! Excuse me, but that slipped out sideways. Just
imagine any woman being able to attend to a dog and pick up a bundle of
letters at the very instant the ship appeared to be slipping off into
deep water!"
"Is not that the best thing that can happen?"
"My dear young lady, we should sink instantly."
"How do you know?"
"Well--er--I don't exactly know, but I assume that the hull was broken
long since."
"I don't see why you should take that for granted. These very
movements seem to me to argue buoyancy. Somehow, I feel far safer here
than if I were--"
She was interrupted by the opening of the door, and the consequent roar
of the gale. It was Walker, the engineer, a lank, swarthy man, with
long black mustaches which drooped forlornly down the sides of his
mouth. He shouted, with the inimitable accent of Tyneside: "Yo' wanted, Docto' Chwistobal. The captain thinks Mr. Boyle is
bettaw."
"May I come, too?" asked Elsie.
"No, missie. You bide he-aw."
"Please tell me before you go--is the ship full of water?"
"She's dwy as a bone," said Walker. A sea splashed over him and sent a
shower into the cabin. "A vewy wet bone," he added, with a broad grin,
for the Northumbrian had a ready wit though he had such a solemn jowl,
and he could not pronounce an "r" to save his life.
"Between you and the captain, I am beginning to be infected by belief,"
said Christobal to Elsie. "Let me recommend you to close the door
behind us."
And she was left with the dog for company once more. A chronometer
showed that the hour was past midnight. She knew sufficient of the sea
to understand that the clock was probably accurate, as the course had
practically followed the same meridian since the Kansas quitted
Valparaiso. So the ship and those left on board had entered on another
day! How little she had thought that to be possible when the awful
knowledge first came to her that the Kansas was ashore! How long ago
was that? Then she remembered that when Courtenay placed her in his
cabin with the promise to bring Isobel to her, she had noticed the
time--eleven o'clock. Was it conceivable that only one hour had
elapsed since she and her four-footed friend were flung all of a heap
into a corner by the impact of the vessel against the sand-bank? One
hour! Surely there was some mistake; she puzzled over the problem,
recounting each event since the conclusion of dinner, and finally
convinced herself that her recollection was not at fault. An hour--one
of eternity's hours! A verse of the 90th Psalm came to her mind: "For a thousand years in Thy sight are but as yesterday when it is
past, and as a watch in the night."