crowded steerage had no attractions. So she sat, busy with her thoughts
and the sights about the beautiful Christiania fjord.

Early the next morning they steamed into Christiansand, and a few hours
later, the last of Norway's rocky coast sank below the waters of the
North Sea.

All went well for a week. Signe had not suffered much from seasickness,
but now a storm was surely coming. Sailors were busy making everything
snug and tight; and the night closed in fierce and dark, with the sea
spray sweeping the deck.

Signe staggered down into the dimly lighted steerage. Most of the poor
emigrants had crawled into their bunks, and were rolling back and forth
with each lurch of the ship. Signe sat and talked with a Danish girl,
each clinging to a post.

"I don't feel like going to bed," said the girl.

"Nor I. What a night it is!"

"Do you think we shall get safely across?"

"Why, certainly," replied Signe. "You mustn't be frightened at a
storm."

"I try not to be afraid, but I'm such a coward."

"Think about something pleasant, now," suggested the other. "Remember
where you're going and whom you are going to meet."