us sound was in my ears the moment I opened
my eyes, and all the terror of the preceding day came crowding into my
mind.

"Sara, are you awake?"

"Yes, Sylvia."

"Did you sleep?"

"Like a top."

"So did I."

Yes, we had slept, and while we slept the sailors had worked all night.
And all night long, like some poor haunted thing, the _May Queen_ had
glided on.

"Mr. Wheeler, has the water lessened in the well?"

"Good-morning, Miss Redding," was his reply.

His face was pale. Great beads of perspiration were rolling down his
cheeks. He began to mop them with a damp handkerchief.

At that moment Dr. Atherton came on the scene. "Good-morning, young
ladies," he said.

Such a slovenly-looking doctor! And we used to think him such a
sprucely-got-up man. There was no collar round his neck, and his hair
hung in damp strings on his forehead. And he had no coat on, not a
waistcoat either, nor did he look a bit abashed.

"Sleep well?" he said.

Mr. Wheeler seized the opportunity to slink away.

"_You_ haven't slept!" we cried.

He didn't reply. His haggard face, the red rims round his tired eyes
were answer enough.

"You've been up all night?" said Sylvia calmly.

I burst into a whimpering wail.

"No, don't, Miss Sara," urged the doctor soothingly.

Sylvia said, "Has more water come into the ship?"

"The water has gained on us a trifle," he said reluctantly.

"But Mr. Wheeler said we'd gained three inches yesterday."

"Go back into your cabin," he said. "Some breakfast will be sent to you
there directly. We--we are not fit to breakfast with ladies this
morning," he added.

"Oh! not to the cabin. Please let us go on deck."

"The captain's orders were the cabin," he said. "Hush, hush! Don't cry
any more, Miss Sara," patting my shoulder, "there's a good girl. It
would worry the captain dreadfully to hear you. His chief anxiety is
having you on board. You wouldn't make his anxiety greater, would you
now? See, Miss Sylvia, I rely on you. Take her to the cabin, and eat
your breakfast there. After breakfast," he added soothingly, "I daresay
you will be allowed to go on deck."

We went back. We sat huddled together. We held each other's hands.
Sylvia didn't cry. Her face was white. Her eyes were shining. "Don't,
Sara," she kept on saying, "crying can do no good."

Breakfast came. Neither of us ate much. How callously we sent the
greater part of it away! Afterwards we remembered it. At present we
could t