With a wild swoop all the plates, glasses, and cutlery on the saloon tables crashed to starboard.  Were it not for the restraint of the fiddles everything must have been swept to the floor.  There were one or two minor accidents.  A steward, taken unawares, was thrown headlong on top of his laden tray.  Others were compelled to clutch the backs of chairs and cling to pillars.  One man involuntarily seized the hair of a lady who devoted an hour before each meal to her coiffure.  The Sirdar, with a frenzied bound, tried to turn a somersault.

“A change of course,” observed the doctor.  “They generally try to avoid it when people are in the saloon, but a typhoon admits of no labored politeness.  As its center is now right ahead we are going on the starboard tack to get behind it.”

“I must hurry up and go on deck,” said Miss Deane.

“You will not be able to go on deck until the morning.”

She turned on him impetuously.  “Indeed I will.  Captain Ross promised me—­that is, I asked him——­”

The doctor smiled.  She was so charmingly insistent.  “It is simply impossible,” he said.  “The companion doors are bolted.  The promenade deck is swept by heavy seas every minute.  A boat has been carried away and several stanchions snapped off like carrots.  For the first time in your life, Miss Deane, you are battened down.”

The girl’s face must have paled somewhat.  He added hastily, “There is no danger, you know, but these precautions are necessary.  You would not like to see several tons of water rushing down the saloon stairs; now, would you?”

“Decidedly not.”  Then after a pause, “It is not pleasant to be fastened up in a great iron box, doctor.  It reminds one of a huge coffin.”

“Not a bit.  The Sirdar is the safest ship afloat.  Your father has always pursued a splendid policy in that respect.  The London and Hong Kong Company may not possess fast vessels, but they are seaworthy and well found in every respect.”

“Are there many people ill on board?”

“No; just the usual number of disturbed livers.  We had a nasty accident shortly before dinner.”

“Good gracious!  What happened?”

“Some Lascars were caught by a sea forward.  One man had his leg broken.”

“Anything else?”

The doctor hesitated.  He became interested in the color of some Burgundy.  “I hardly know the exact details yet,” he replied.  “Tomorrow after breakfast I will tell you all about it.”

An English quartermaster and four Lascars had been licked from off the forecastle by the greedy tongue of a huge wave.  The succeeding surge flung the five men back against the quarter.  One of the black sailors was pitched aboard, with a fractured leg and other injuries.  The others were smashed against the iron hull and disappeared.

For one tremulous moment the engines slowed.  The ship commenced to veer off into the path of the cyclone.  Captain Ross set his teeth, and the telegraph bell jangled “Full speed ahead.”