I went below to look for Pomona.

The lantern still hung on the nail, and I took it down and went into the kitchen.

There was Pomona, dressed, and with her hat on, quietly packing some things in a basket.
"Come, hurry out of this," I cried.

"Don't you know that this house--this boat, I mean, is a wreck ?" "Yes, sma'am--sir, I mean--I know it, and I suppose we shall soon be at the mercy of the waves." "Well, then, go as quickly as you can.

What are you putting in that basket ?" "Food," she said.