But instead of throwing myself forward on my hands, and
then raising my heels backward over my head, in the orthodox
manner, I was on my back, and trying to get on my head from that
position. I awoke suddenly, and found that the footboard of the
bedstead was much higher than our heads. We were lying on a very
much inclined plane, with our heads downward. I roused Euphemia,
and we both got out of bed, when, at almost the same moment, we
slipped down the floor into ever so much water.
Euphemia was scarcely awake, and she fell down gurgling. It was
dark, but I heard her fall, and I jumped over the bedstead to her
assistance. I had scarcely raised her up, when I heard a pounding
at the front door or main-hatchway, and our boarder shouted:
"Get up! Come out of that! Open the door! The old boat's turning
over!"
My heart fell within me, but I clutched Euphemia. I said no word,
and she simply screamed. I dragged her over the floor, sometimes
in the water and sometimes out of it. I got the dining-room door
open and set her on the stairs. They were in a topsy-turvy
condition, but they were dry. I found a lantern which hung on a
nail, with a match-box under it, and I struck a light. Then I
scrambled back and brought her some clothes.
All this time the boarder was yelling and pounding at the door.
When Euphemia was ready I opened the door and took her out.
"You go dress yourself;" said the boarder. "I'll hold her here
until you come back.
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