thud, thud; the vessel's head rose gracefully with the long swell of the
ocean, and, to make everything complete, several passengers already felt
that inward qualm--the accompaniment of so many ocean voyages.

George Morris yawned, and seemed the very picture of _ennui_. He put his
hands deeply into his coat pockets, and sauntered across the deck. Then
he took a stroll up the one side and down the other. As he lounged along
it was very evident that he was tired of the voyage, even before it
began. Judging from his listless manner nothing on earth could arouse
the interest of the young man. The gong sounded faintly in the inner
depths of the ship somewhere announcing dinner. Then, as the steward
appeared up the companion way, the sonorous whang, whang became louder,
and the hatless official, with the gong in hand, beat that instrument
several final strokes, after which he disappeared into the regions
below.

"I may as well go down," said Morris to himself, "and see where they
have placed me at table. But I haven't much interest in dinner."

As he walked to the companion-way an elderly gentleman and a young lady
appeared at the opposite door, ready to descend the stairs. Neither of
them saw the young man. But if they had, one of them at least would have
doubted the young man's sanity. He stared at the couple for a moment
with a look of grotesque horror on his face that was absolutely comical.
Then he turned, and ran the length of the deck, with a speed unconscious
of all obstacles.

"Say," he cried to the captain, "I want to go ashore. I _must_ go
ashore. I want to go ashore with the pilot."