Nan Sherwood's Summer Holidays Part 15

"A-a-and the wind!" Rhoda supplied, with difficulty. "It's l-l-las.h.i.+ng at me so that I can't--get--my breath."

"Nor--me----either." Amelia gasped. "I--I--I guess the Captain was right after all. He said, there was going to be a heavy gale tonight. Come, let's go in."

"Oh, stay just a minute longer," Nan pleaded. "I like to see it roll.

Look, see how the fish are jumping the waves! They are coming in higher and higher all the time. I wonder how this boat behaves when there is a real storm at sea."

"One of the sailors told me this morning," Laura volunteered, "that 'she's a trusty old tub', if that will comfort you any."

"Oh, I don't need comforting," Nan replied. "I'm not afraid."

"You mean to say you wouldn't be afraid in a storm?" Grace asked incredulously.

"Of course not." Nan answered. "Would you?"

"I'll tell you the answer to that later," Grace threw over her shoulder as she made for the doors to go in. "Just now I'd rather watch this from the windows in the lounge where it's warm."

"We'll be in, in a second," Amelia called after her, "Save a place for us. Have you people seen the s.h.i.+p's log?" She went on, turning to Nan.

"It's posted inside, near the elevators. There is a map of the United States, the Atlantic Ocean, and Europe with the course of our voyage marked in little lines on it. Each day the purser sticks a flag, representing our s.h.i.+p on this line, so that it shows where we are and how far we have traveled during the day. Underneath, there is a little weather chart telling how fast the wind is going, what the temperature is, whether or not the sea is rolling, and what might be expected for the next twenty-four hours."

"What does it say for today," Nan asked.

"The temperature is dropping--"

"We know that," Laura interrupted. "What else does it say?"

"That the sea is slightly rolling."

"We can feel that," Laura put in again, for the s.h.i.+p was rolling with the waves.

"That we are headed into a storm. There, Miss Smarty, you didn't know that," Amelia laughed.

"Did too," Laura retorted. "My creaking bones told me. Now, I'm going in before I get rheumatism." So saying, she followed Grace. The others, except Nan, whom not even Bess could persuade to come in as yet, followed her.

Alone on the dark deck, Nan stood for a while at the rail, watching the white foam of the waves, listening to the roar of the wind, and glancing now and then at the clouds, swiftly gathering overhead. Save for a pale moon, the only light was the s.h.i.+p's beacon which every few seconds, pa.s.sed in its circle, over Nan's head.

Once, Nan was tempted to follow her friends. She could hear voices, singing and laughter, and the sound of a piano inside. She even started toward the door, but then a dark pa.s.sageway at her right tempted her and she went exploring.

Hugging the side of the boat closely, she followed around through the pa.s.sageway between the s.h.i.+p's riggings, and then on down the deck until she came to the barrier between first and second cla.s.s that Laura had taunted Bess about. She examined it carefully. It was impossible to get by. There was no moving it. She tried sliding it and pus.h.i.+ng it. It wouldn't budge.

She turned and retraced her steps, going back to some narrow iron stairs that went up. The "Keep Off" sign, which she couldn't read in the dark, she shoved aside. She was determined now to make a complete circle of the boat. She went up the stairs, around another deck, and down some steps again.

This was becoming a real adventure and Nan was enjoying every minute of it. If her conscience troubled her at all, she paid no heed. Others on the boat had told her of going out of bounds, and she could see no real harm in it.

She walked around deckchairs piled high against the side of the boat, caught a glimpse of some phosph.o.r.escent fish in the ocean, and walked over to the rail. How pretty they looked in the deep black of the water!

She stood for a while watching the colors at play and then went on. It was almost as though she was motivated by some force outside herself.

She heard no sounds from people in the boat now, for she had pa.s.sed the lounges and the recreation rooms. She felt almost alone on the boat, and laughed a little to herself as she thought how timid Grace would be in such a situation. However, Nan liked it.

It brought back to her mind nights at Pine Camp. How far away all that seemed now! How far away it was! Northern Michigan was in another world.

The people there, Aunt Kate, Injun Pete, Toby Vanderwiller, and Gedney Raffer, all of them, were like people she had dreamed about. She shook herself impatiently, driving away some eerie thoughts, and then went on until she came to the very back of the vessel, the stern.

Here she stopped, and looked back over the ocean which the boat was putting behind it. The wake, the white foamy path of the boat stretched out as far as she could see. The waters, which made it, rolled aside in big white waves leaving the center black and deep.

How much colder it was getting! And how much rougher! Nan clung to the rail, and held her head high as the wind whipped her hair back so that it stung the sides of her cheeks. She watched the waves coming, each one higher than the last and angrier. She counted them, "One, two, three,"

someone had told her once that the seventh was always the highest, "four, five." She could feel the spray on her face and the air was full of mist. "Six, seven--why the seventh wasn't any bigger than any of the rest! And--eight." It was the eighth that was the biggest of all! It climbed up the boat, over the rail, and across the deck, taking Nan off her feet!

She lost her balance completely, wrenched her arm as she fell, and was afraid for a second that she would go over with the wash of the wave.

But she held on, and as the boat righted itself after the inundation, Nan rose to her feet, half dazed.

She rubbed her hair out of her eyes, winced with the pain in her arm, and being very careful now, started toward the door. She stopped short.

Was that a cry she had heard? She raised her head, listening attentively for some sound other than the roaring of the waves. There wasn't any.

She must have imagined it. She went on across the deck, now s.h.i.+ny after its bath with sea water. There was something white at her feet. She stooped to pick it up--a handkerchief. Again, she thought she heard a low moan and stopped dead still.

Yes, there it was again. Nan hesitated, deciding whether to investigate herself or call for help. The crash of the waves drowned out everything and decided Nan. She could hear them coming, one, two--what direction had the sound come from?--three, four, five. There it was again, over at her right. She started toward it and lost her balance, grabbed hold of a flagpole, and then crept forward. Six--seven--it was the seventh that was the biggest this time, but before it had struck with its full force Nan's hand reached out and grabbed the coat of someone lying on the deck. With her other, as the wave struck, she held fast to the pole.

There it was, the wave! It came up and over the two, tugged at them, first their hips, and then their feet, and finally reluctantly, went on over the side without them.

Nan screamed, again and again. The form at her hand seemed to have no life. There was no answer to her call. She, herself, was weaker, much weaker than she thought.

She got up slowly and painfully and tried to pull her burden after her.

She couldn't budge it. She could hear, as from some far off land, the waves coming again. She shook her head, aware now that her senses had been dulled. Now, she could count them again, one, two--the second one splashed lightly over the deck. They were getting higher all the time.

Three, four--Nan reached down with her strained arm, put it under the limp form, and half dragged, half carried it to the door, a partial shelter, as the fifth wave swept like a fury over the deck.

Nan reached up to open the door. It was locked. In a frenzy, she beat upon it. It was double locked against the storm! She knocked it again, screamed, and then, for the first time in her life, fainted dead away.

CHAPTER XV

IN THE s.h.i.+P'S HOSPITAL

"I hope she dies of pneumonia!" Bess was frankly crying as she walked down the corridor toward the s.h.i.+p's hospital. "I'd like nothing better than to witness a funeral at sea, if it was Linda Riggs'," she stated most emphatically, and then wiped her eyes.

"She's a cat, that's what she is or she would have died long ago.

Remember," she recalled, "when we planned that surprise party on Nan back in Lakeview and that black cat came into the room. That was the soul of Linda Riggs," Bess vowed. "She's a cat and a witch."

Grace looked impressed, but Laura snickered.

"See here, Bess," Rhoda stopped and put a restraining hand on Bess's arm. "You're not going into that hospital room and talk like that before Nan. She needs rest and quiet. The doctor said so. Now, are you going to curb your anger, or aren't you?"

"Oh, I will," Bess answered. "Just give me a couple of seconds to cool off. Every time I think of Nan risking her life to save that good-for-nothing, it riles me clear through. Nan's so good to everyone, and Linda, well, she tramps all over everybody."

"There, Bess, take it easy," Laura for once tried to placate the girl.

"We won't have any more trouble from her this trip. The nurse told me Linda has to stay in bed until the boat docks. If Nan is careful, she'll be down in her own cabin tomorrow."