Without event, or incident, they steamed through Bab-el-Mandib, by the
lighthouse on Perim, and eastward across the Gulf of Aden. As for the
town of that name, on its northern shore, opinions were divided. Faith
shuddered at its desolation, Hope thought it bold and striking, while Mr.
Lawrence said that, "If Dante had seen it he would have been saved a deal
of trouble, for he could simply have described its rocky wilds for his
Inferno!" All blessed the fresher atmosphere and brisker breezes of the
Indian Ocean, which, if warm, are bearable, and awoke from the lethargy
of a sultriness which was like that of an overheated, airless room, to
life and interest, once more.
It was nearing night, after a day of intense calm, with the mercury close
upon the century mark, and the passengers, eager for air, crowded the
upper decks. The captain stood long, with glass in hand, scanning the
horizon, and made his dinner a short affair.
"Do you know," said Faith, glancing up at the twilight sky, "there's a
strange feeling in the atmosphere, to-night? I can't tell what it is,
but, though it is so sultry that I can scarcely breathe, at times a cold
shiver runs down my spine, and I believe it is dread, or fear."
"Goodness!" said Hope, turning to look at her, "you're not going to have
a fever, are you?"
"I hope not," said Chester Carnegie, with a laugh, "for I've felt the
same."
"Sympathetic suggestion possibly," mused Mr. Lawrence, with an absent
air, as he leaned over the guard-rail.
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