So Ishmael did not feel any very serious misgivings, but went downstairs to breakfast with a good appetite.

Here another pleasant surprise greeted him: Judge Merlin and Mr.

Brudenell, recovered from their seasickness, were both at breakfast; and notwithstanding the weight of care that oppressed their hearts they were both, from the mere physical reaction from depressing illness, in excellent spirits.

They arose to greet their young friend.

"How do you do, how do you do, Ishmael?" began Judge Merlin, heartily shaking his hand. "I really suppose now that you think I owe you an apology? But the fact is you owe me one. Didn't you know better than to intrude on the privacy of a seasick man? Didn't you know that a victim hates the sight of one who is not a victim? And that a seasick man or a rabid dog is better let alone, eh?"

"I beg your pardon, sir; I did not know it; but now that you enlighten me, I will not offend again," laughed Ishmael.

Mr. Brudenell's greeting was quieter, but even more cordial than that of the judge.

Before breakfast was over they were joined by others of their fellow-passengers, whom they had not seen since the first day out.

Among the rest was a certain Dr. Kerr, a learned savant, professor in the University of Glasgow, who had been on a scientific mission to the United States, and was returning home. He was a tall, thin old gentleman, in a long, black velvet dressing-gown and a round, black velvet skullcap. And he entered readily into conversation with our party on the subject of the late gales, and from that diverged into the subject of meteorology. There were no ladies present at breakfast.

The whole party soon adjourned to the deck, and notwithstanding the fog, enjoyed the pleasure of a promenade and conversation as they only can who have been deprived of such privileges for many days.

At dinner the long absent ladies reappeared; among the rest, the wife and daughters of the Scotch professor; and with the freedom of ocean steamer traveling, all well-dressed and well-behaved first- cabin passengers soon became acquainted and sociable, if not intimate.

Mrs. Dr. Kerr had happened to hear of Mr. Worth as one of the most promising young barristers of the time; and finding him in the company of Chief Justice Merlin, and approving him on short acquaintance, and knowing that he was unmarried, and not knowing that his heart, hand, and honor were irretrievably engaged, she singled him out as a very desirable match for one of her four penniless daughters, and paid such court to him as Ishmael, in the honesty and gratitude of his heart, repaid with every attention.

Mrs. Dr. Kerr, complaining of the tediousness of the voyage, and the dullness of her own circle, invited Ishmael and his party to spend the evening and play whist in the ladies' cabin--forbidden ground to all gentlemen who had no ladies with them, unless indeed they should happen, as in this case, to be invited.

All the gentlemen of our party availed themselves of this privilege, and the evening passed more pleasantly than any other evening since they had been at sea.

The fog lasted for three days, during which, as the wind was fair and the sea calm, the passengers, well wrapped up, enjoyed the promenade of the deck during the day, and the social meetings in the dining saloon, or the whist parties in the ladies' cabin during the evening.

And lulled by this deceitful calm, they were happy in the thought that the voyage was nearly half over, and in the anticipation of a prosperous passage over the remaining distance, and a safe arrival in port.

On the evening of the third day of the fog, however, a vague and nameless dread prevailed among the passengers. No one could have told whence this dread arose, or whither it pointed. Those well acquainted with the locality knew that the steamer was upon the Banks of Newfoundland, and that those Banks were considered rather unsafe in a fog.

Some others, who were in the secret, also knew that the captain had not left the quarterdeck, either to eat or to sleep, for forty-eight hours; for they had left him on deck at a late hour at night, and found him there at an early hour of the morning. And they had seen strong coffee carried up to him at short intervals. That was all.

For sailors never think of danger until that danger, whatever it might be, is imminent; and never speak of it until it becomes necessary to do so, in order to save life.

Thus the passengers on board the "Oceana," on the night of the 20th of December, were totally ignorant of the real nature of the perils that beset them, although, as I said, an undefined misgiving and a sense of insecurity oppressed their hearts.

At ten o'clock that night the weather was thick, foggy, and intensely cold, with a heavy sea and a high wind.

The captain and first mate were on deck, where a number of the hardier and more anxious passengers were collected to watch.

In the dining saloon were gathered around the tables those inveterate gamblers who seem to have no object, either in the voyage of the ocean or the voyage of life, except the winning or losing of money.

In the ladies' cabin there were two social whist parties, formed of the ladies of the Scotch professor's family and the gentlemen of our set.

They were playing with great enjoyment, notwithstanding that little undercurrent of vague uneasiness of which I spoke, when the Scotchman, who had been on the deck all the evening, came down into the cabin, wearing a long face.

But the whist-players were too much interested in their game to notice the lugubrious expression of the old man, until he came to the table, and in a tone of the most alarming gravity exclaimed:

"Don't be frightened!"

Every lady dropped her cards and turned deadly pale with terror.

Every gentleman looked up inquiringly at this judicious speaker.

"What is there to be frightened at, sir?" coldly inquired Ishmael.

"Well, you know our situation--But, ladies, for Heaven's sake, be composed. Your sex are noted for heroism in the midst of danger--"

Here, to prove his words good, one of the ladies shrieked, fell back in her chair, and covered her face with her hands.

"These ladies are not aware of any danger, sir, and I think it quite needless to alarm them," said Ishmael gravely.

"My good young friend, I don't wish to alarm them; I came down here on purpose to exhort them to coolness and self-possession, so necessary in the hour of peril. Now, dear ladies, I must beg that you will not suffer yourselves to be agitated."

"There is really, sir, no present cause for agitation, except, if you will pardon me for saying it, your own needlessly alarming words and manner," said Ishmael cheerfully, to reassure the frightened women, who seemed upon the very verge of hysterics.

"No, no, no, certainly no cause for agitation, ladies--certainly not. Therefore don't be agitated, I beg of you. But--but--don't undress and go to bed to-night. Lie down on the outside of your berths just as you are; for, look you--we may all have to take to the lifeboats at a minute's warning," said the doctor, his long, pale face looking longer and paler than ever under his round, black skullcap.

A half-smothered shriek burst simultaneously from all the women present.

"I trust, sir, that your fears are entirely groundless. I have heard no apprehensions expressed in any other quarter," said Ishmael. And although he never begged the ladies not to be "frightened," yet every cheerful word he spoke tended to calm their fears.

"What cause have you for such forebodings, doctor?" inquired Mr.

Brudenell.

"Oh, none at all, sir. There is no reason to be alarmed. I hope nobody will be alarmed, especially the ladies. But you see the captain has not been able to make an observation for the last three days on account of the fog; and it is said that no one accurately knows just where we are; except that we are on the Banks, somewhere, and may strike before we know it. That is all. Now don't be terrified. And don't lose your presence of mind. And whatever you do, don't take off your clothes; for if we strike you mayn't have time to put them on again, and scanty raiment, in an open boat, on a wintry night at sea, wouldn't be pleasant. Now mind what I tell you.

I shall not turn in myself. I am going on deck to watch."

And having succeeded in spreading a panic among the women, the old man took himself and his black skullcap out of the cabin.

Exclamations of surprise, fear, and horror followed his departure.

There was no more card-playing; they did not even finish their game; they felt it to be sacrilegious to engage in even a "ladies' game"

of whist, on the eve of possible shipwreck, perhaps on the brink of eternity.

Ishmael gathered up and put away the cards and set himself earnestly to calm the fears of his trembling fellow-passengers; but they were not to be soothed. Then he offered to go up on deck and make inquiries as to the situation, course, and prospects of the ship; but they would not consent to his leaving them; they earnestly besought him to stay; and declared that they found assurance and comfort in his presence.

At length he took the Bible and seated himself at the table, and read to them such portions as were suited to their condition. He read for more than an hour, and then, hoping that this had composed their spirits, he closed the book and counseled them to retire and take some rest; and promised to station himself outside the cabin door and be their vigilant sentinel, to warn them of danger the instant it should become necessary.

But no! they each and all declared sleep to be impossible under the circumstances. And they continued to sit around the table with their arms laid on its top and their heads buried In them, waiting for-- what? Who could tell?

Meanwhile the ship was borne swiftly on by wind and wave--whither?

None of these frightened women knew.

Eight bells struck--twelve, midnight; and Ishmael renewed his entreaties that they would take some repose. But in vain; for they declared that there could be no repose for their bodies while their minds were suffering such intense anxiety.

One bell struck, and there they sat; two bells, and there they still sat; and there was but little conversation after this. Three bells struck, and they sat on, so motionless that Ishmael hoped they had fallen asleep on their watch and he refrained from addressing them.

Four bells struck. It was two o'clock in the morning, and dead silence reigned in the ladies' cabin. Everyone except Ishmael had gone to sleep.