Opening her eyes, she was
momentarily dazed by the broad light of day, and the spectacle of Mrs.
Brimmer, pale and agitated, in a half-Spanish dishabille, standing at
her bedside.
"Get up and dress yourself, my dear, at once," she said hurriedly, but
at the same time attentively examining Miss Keene's clothes, that were
lying on the chair: "and thank Heaven you came here in an afternoon
dress, and not in an evening costume like mine! For something awful has
happened, and Heaven only knows whether we'll ever see a stitch of our
clothes again."
"WHAT has happened?" asked Miss Keene impatiently, sitting up in bed,
more alarmed at the unusual circumstance of Mrs. Brimmer's unfinished
toilet than at her incomplete speech.
"What, indeed! Nobody knows; but it's something awful--a mutiny, or
shipwreck, or piracy. But there's your friend, the Commander, calling
out the troops; and such a set of Christy Minstrels you never saw
before! There's the Alcalde summoning the Council; there's Mr. Banks
raving, and running round for a steamboat--as if these people ever heard
of such a thing!--and Captain Bunker, what with rage and drink, gone
off in a fit of delirium tremens, and locked up in his room! And the
Excelsior gone--the Lord knows where!"
"Gone!" repeated Miss Keene, hurrying on her clothes.
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