below, and the night that followed was a terror. Such a storm raged as
I had never dreamed of, the ship rocked and groaned, and the water
dashed against the port-holes; my bag played tag with my shoes, and my
trunk ran around the room like a rat hunting for its hole. Overhead
the shouts of the captain could be heard above the answering shouts of
the sailors, and men and women hurried panic-stricken through the
passage.

Through it all I lay in the upper berth and recalled all the unhappy
nights of the past seven years; disappointment, heartache,
disillusionment, disgust; they followed each other in silent
review. Every tender memory and early sentiment that might have
lingered in my heart was ruthlessly murdered by some stronger memory
of pain. The storm without was nothing to the storm within, I felt
indifferent as to the fate of the vessel. If she floated or if she
sank, it was one and the same to me.

When morning came something had happened to me. I don't know what it
was, but my past somehow seemed to belong to someone else. I had taken
a last farewell of all the old burdens, and I was a new person in a
new world.

I put on my prettiest cap and my long coat and went up on deck. Oh, my
dear, if you could only have seen the sight that greeted me! It was
the limpest, sickest crowd I ever encountered! They were pea-green
with a dash of yellow, and a streak of black under their eyes, pale
around the lips and weak in their knees. There was only one other
woman besides myself who was not sick, and she was a missionary with
short hair, and a big nose. She was going around with some tracts
asking everybody if they were Christians. Just as I came up she