"
And her father added:
"You must not be so impatient, Deena; it is mighty nasty sailing through West Indian waters, and a boat of that size doesn't carry enough fuel for a prolonged voyage; they will have to stop for coal somewhere on their way up."
She was growing irritable under her dread. Like Elisha, she longed to silence them with the answer:
"I know it; hold ye your peace.
"
The middle of June had passed, the fourth week of the voyage had begun, and now any day, any hour, might bring news. Deena's anxiety had made such inroads into her health that her father took alarm and called in her old friend Dr. Hassan, and he, wise man, gave her a sedative and ordered her to bed, though the afternoon was still young.
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