The deck, when he reached it, was wet, but not with the moisture of the
scrubbing. The outlook was clear enough, but a strong head-wind was
blowing that whistled through the cordage of the vessel, and caused the
black smoke of the funnels to float back like huge sombre streamers. The
prow of the big ship rose now into the sky and then sank down into the
bosom of the sea, and every time it descended a white cloud of spray
drenched everything forward and sent a drizzly salt rain along the whole
length of the steamer.

"There will be no ladies on deck this morning," said Morris to himself,
as he held his cap on with both hands and looked around at the
threatening sky. At this moment one wave struck the steamer with more
than usual force and raised its crest amidship over the decks. Morris
had just time to escape into the companion-way when it fell with a crash
on the deck, flooding the promenade, and then rushing out through the
scuppers into the sea.

"By George!" said Morris. "I guess there won't be many at breakfast
either, if this sort of thing keeps up. I think the other side of the
ship is the best."

Coming out on the other side of the deck, he was astonished to see,
sitting in her steamer chair, snugly wrapped up in her rugs, Miss
Katherine Earle, balancing a cup of steaming coffee in her hand.
The steamer chair had been tightly tied to the brass stanchion, or
hand-rail, that ran along the side of the housed-in portion of the
companion-way, and although the steamer swayed to and fro, as well as up
and down, the chair was immovable. An awning had been put up over the
place where the chair was fastened, and every now and then on that