not left the quarterdeck, either to eat or to sleep, for forty-eight
hours; for they had left him on deck at a late hour at night, and
found him there at an early hour of the morning. And they had seen
strong coffee carried up to him at short intervals. That was all.
For sailors never think of danger until that danger, whatever it
might be, is imminent; and never speak of it until it becomes
necessary to do so, in order to save life.

Thus the passengers on board the "Oceana," on the night of the 20th
of December, were totally ignorant of the real nature of the perils
that beset them, although, as I said, an undefined misgiving and a
sense of insecurity oppressed their hearts.

At ten o'clock that night the weather was thick, foggy, and
intensely cold, with a heavy sea and a high wind.

The captain and first mate were on deck, where a number of the
hardier and more anxious passengers were collected to watch.

In the dining saloon were gathered around the tables those
inveterate gamblers who seem to have no object, either in the voyage
of the ocean or the voyage of life, except the winning or losing of
money.

In the ladies' cabin there were two social whist parties, formed of
the ladies of the Scotch professor's family and the gentlemen of our
set.

They were playing with great enjoyment, notwithstanding that little
undercurrent of vague uneasiness of which I spoke, when the