"To see what is going to happen, for I should not be at all ill-pleased to witness a shipwreck!" replied the Doctor, looking at me knowingly.
"Is this the first time you have been on board the 'Great Eastern'?"
"No, I have already made several voyages in her, to satisfy my curiosity."
"You must not complain, then."
"I do not complain; I merely state facts, and patiently await the hour of the catastrophe."
Was the Doctor making fun of me? I did not know what to think, his small twinkling eyes looked very roguish; but I thought I would try him further.
"Doctor," I said, "I do not know on what facts your painful prognostics are founded, but allow me to remind you that the 'Great Eastern' has crossed the Atlantic twenty times, and most of her passages have been satisfactory."
"That's of no consequence; this ship is bewitched, to use a common expression, she cannot escape her fate; I know it, and therefore have no confidence in her. Remember what difficulties the engineers had to launch her; I believe even that Brunel, who built her, died from the 'effects of the operation,' as we doctors say."
"Ah, Doctor," said I, "are you inclined to be a materialist?"
