at the
_Roland_ was rocking no more than easily and comfortably and was making
its way with majestic speed.

This acted like a charm. The captain left the door open and had Pander
hook it back. A man, who had been lying asleep in a corner--in that half
sleep which is the mildest symptom of seasickness--rose to a sitting
posture and rubbed his eyes. Hans Fuellenberg and a number of other men
hastened out on deck. Doctor Wilhelm and Frederick, who had lost the
game, followed.

XXV

The two physicians paced the full length of the promenade deck. The air
was mild. The ship was moving quietly, as if its great body took delight
in pushing onward through none but low waves. It was surprising to see
how gay the life on deck was. They were constantly raising their hats and
making way for somebody. The stewards had carried the news of the good
weather down to the passengers in their stuffy cabins, and all the
seasick travellers had come crawling on deck. There was much talking and
laughing. Each moment brought fresh surprise over the galaxy of merry
women that had kept themselves stowed away in the _Roland's_ interior. It
was just an ordinary Saturday afternoon in January; yet suddenly an
atmosphere of festivity prevailed not to be outdone by a Christmas eve.

Hans Fuellenberg passed by. He was cracking jokes for everybody's benefit
and flirting desperately with his Englishwoman, who had recovered from
her seasickness. She had found a friend, a woman in a fur cap and coat,
with a magnificent crown of light hair, like a Swedish woman's. She
seemed to be greatly amused by Fuellenberg's poor jokes and poor English.
He had abstracted her muff and was alternately conveying it to his
stomach, his heart, and--this very passionately--his mouth. The young
American jackanapes was promenading with his Canadian, who looked very
haughty and blase, yet much fresher. The delicate creature seemed to be
shivering with cold, though she was wearing an elegant coat of Canadian
sable, which reached to her knees. Frederick greeted the clothing
manufacturer, whom his steward had helped up on deck. He had been lying
in his cabin more dead than alive, and his steward had been feeding him
on nothing but Malaga grapes.

Ingigerd was holding court on the port side in front of her cabin, the
door to which stood open, it flattering her vanity to have the many
promenaders see and envy the privilege she was enjoying.

"If it is agreeable to you,