think I do; but when are the dog-watches?'

"From four to six, and from six to eight in the evening. They always
strike the bells by twos, as you heard just now. But, John, it rains
like fury."

"So it does, but it is a dry place in this cabin."

"I wish we had a lantern, for it is as dark as a pocket in here. It
would make it so much pleasanter. But you must turn in now, or you will
not be able to stand your watch."

"I think I will."

John took off his boots, and placed himself under the blanket and
comforter of his berth, for there were no sheets. He gaped several
times, and tried to continue the conversation with Paul; but the poor
fellow, worn out with the fatigue and excitement of the day, was soon
fast asleep. Paul listened to the sound of his heavy breathing, between
the splashes of the waves as they broke upon the bow of the boat, till
he began to feel sleepy himself, and then, wrapping the greatcoat, which
he always carried with him, closely around his body, he went upon deck
to see if there was any change in the weather or the position of the
boat.

It was clear to him that the wind had been hauling round to the
eastward, for the Fawn tumbled about as she had done out upon the open
waters of the bay As he lay down upon the deck to examine the cable, so
as to assure himself that it was not chafing the boat, a huge wave broke
over the bowsprit, and he would have been drenched to the skin, if his
coat had not been water-proof.

The rain continued to pour down, and Paul retired to the cuddy again. It
was a weary, lonely watch, and he was so tired he could hardly keep his
eyes open. But it seemed to him that the violence of the gale was
subsiding, and he again went upon deck to satisfy himself on this point.
There was still a heavy sea, but he was satisfied that the wind had very
sensibly abated. Six bells sounded from the ship as he returned to the
cuddy.

Throwing himself on his berth, he listened for a while to John's
sonorous snores, and before he was sensible of the danger of his
position, he was sound asleep himself. Worn out by the labors of the
day, he could no longer keep his eyes open.

He woke with a start,--for he was conscious that he had forsaken the
post of duty,--and hastened upon deck. Eight bells from the ship told
him it was midnight. The wind had nearly subsided, but it rained very
hard, and the heavy sea continued to break over the bow of the Fawn.

John was still sleeping like a