Really, Ruth made a picture,
for she had on a long white cloak, and with a turban trimmed with ermine,
and her fair hair and blue eyes, she looked like some Siberian princess,
if they have princesses there, and I suppose they must.
The four young people chatted and laughed together, while the _Tarsus_
plowed on her way. It was a day of idleness, save that Russ took a few
pictures of scenes on shipboard for future use.
In the afternoon, while Ruth and Alice were reclining luxuriously in
their steamer chairs, they observed one of the officers come up from
below, and run toward the bridge. There was something in his manner that
startled Alice, and she sat up suddenly, exclaiming:
"I hope nothing has happened!"
"Happened? Why should it? What do you mean?" asked Ruth. But immediately
a look of fear came into her own eyes--a look born of suggestion merely.
"Oh, I don't know," and Alice tried to laugh, but it did not ring true.
"It was just a notion--"
She did not finish, for another officer came on the run from forward, and
he, too, sought the bridge. Then the two girls saw curling up from one of
the hatchways on the lower forward deck, a little wisp of smoke, and
immediately afterward there sounded through the ship the clanging of
bells.
"What's that?" cried Ruth, casting aside her rug, and struggling to her
feet, no easy matter from a steamer chair.
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