Hope
begged again, "Save her, oh, save Faith!"
"Faith? Aren't you Faith? I thought you were. Is this my dauntless
Hope, then? Why, how strange! Tell me everything."
"It's those awful Lascars, papa. I've always been afraid of them, they
look so big and black. They're planning to kill somebody--to kill
you--and Faith is gone already."
"Gone? What nonsense is this? She's in the cabin, likely. You must
have a nightmare, Hope!"
"But isn't it most morning, papa?"
"Not anywhere near it--nor midnight either. Faith is somewhere about,
and as for killing--absurd! This isn't one bit like you, child.
Haven't you been dreaming?"
She told him then of her horrible awakening, and repeated the talk she
had heard below the porthole.
"Humph!" he said. "You're mistaken in their designs, but they
certainly had no business in that part of the ship. I must see about
that. Come; I'll take you in and hunt up sister." This was said in a
rather loud voice, made stern by his surprise and annoyance. In a
moment it softened. "There, there, don't tremble so, my child; it's
all right, and everybody is safe enough."
He led her into the cabin, quickly flooded it with electric light, and,
summoning a boy, sent him for Mrs. Jordan, who soon appeared. Briefly
mentioning that his daughter had a slight chill and he would leave her
to look after the child, he started off. Hope was scarcely tucked up
again when her sister came in, looking rather conscious, and blushing a
little.
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