Most of the poor
emigrants had crawled into their bunks, and were rolling back and forth
with each lurch of the ship. Signe sat and talked with a Danish girl,
each clinging to a post.
"I don't feel like going to bed," said the girl.
"Nor I. What a night it is!"
"Do you think we shall get safely across?"
"Why, certainly," replied Signe. "You mustn't be frightened at a
storm."
"I try not to be afraid, but I'm such a coward."
"Think about something pleasant, now," suggested the other. "Remember
where you're going and whom you are going to meet."
The girl from Denmark had confided to Signe that she was going to join
her lover in America.
The girl tried to smile, and Signe continued: "What a contrast between
us. I am running away; you are going to meet someone--"
Crash! A blow struck the ship and shook it from end to end; and
presently the machinery came to a full stop. Then there was hurrying of
feet on deck, and they could hear the boatswain's shrill pipe, and the
captain giving commands.
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