"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?"
"Why ask me that question?"
"Because I have noticed that many who do not believe in God believe in most everything else, even in the evil eye."
"Make fun if you like, sir," replied the Doctor, "but allow me to continue my argument. The Great Eastern has already ruined several companies. Built for the purpose of carrying emigrants to Australia, she has never once been there; intended to surpass the ocean steamers in speed, she even remains inferior to them."
"From this," said I, "it is to be concluded that———"
"Listen a minute," interrupted the Doctor. "Already one of her captains has been drowned, and he one of the most skillful, for he knew how to prevent this rolling by keeping the ship a little ahead of the waves."
"Ah, well!" said I, "the death of that able man is to be regretted."
