"Quite a storm," said Chester to a man washing the deck.

"Storm? Oh, no, sir; just a bit of a blow."

No one seemed to have any concern regarding the safety of the ship, so
Chester concluded that there was no danger, that this was no storm at
all, which conclusion was right, as he had later to acknowledge. The sun
came up through a wild sea into a wild sky, casting patches of shifting
light on the waters to the east. Chester kept a lookout for his friends,
the elders. When the breakfast gong sounded, Elder Malby appeared.

"Where are the others?" asked Chester.

"They'll not get up today; perhaps not tomorrow. I see you are all
right. You're lucky. Come, let us go to breakfast."

Most of the seats were vacant at the table that morning. A few smilingly
looked around, secure in their superior strength. Others were bravely
trying to do the right thing by sitting down to a morning meal; but a
number of these failed, some leaving quietly and deliberately, others
rushing away in unceremonial haste. Chester was quite alone on his side
of the table. If there had been a trifle of "sinking emptiness" in him
before, the meal braced him up wonderfully. In this he thought he had
discovered a sure cure for sea-sickness. One day later he imparted this
information to a lady voyager, who received it with the exclamation,
"Oh, horrors!"

All that day the wind was strong, and the sea rough. Even an officer
acknowledged that if this weather kept up, the "blow" might grow into a