eyes, he fancied, from the sound of water
in his ears, that it must have come on to rain very heavily, but, being
regardless of rain, he tried to fall asleep again. Then he felt as if
there must be a leak in his berth somewhere, he was so wet; but, being
sleepy, he shut his eyes, and tried to shut his senses against moisture.
Not succeeding, he resolved to turn on his other side, but experienced
a strange resistance to that effort. Waxing testy, he wrenched himself
round, and in so doing kicked out somewhat impatiently. This, of
course, woke him up to the real state of the case. It also awoke Slagg,
who received the kick on his shins. He, delivering a cry of pain
straight into Sam Shipton's ear, caused that youth to fling out his
fist, which fell on Stumps's nose, and thus in rapid succession were the
sleepers roused effectually to a full sense of their condition.

"It's cold," remarked Stumps, with chattering teeth.

"You should be thankful that you're alive to feel the cold, you
ungrateful creetur," said Slagg.

"I _am_ thankful, Jim," returned the other humbly, as he sought to undo
the rope that held him fast; "but you know a feller can scarcely express
thanks or--or--otherwise half asleep, an' his teeth goin' like a pair o'
nut-crackers."

"The wind is evidently down," remarked Sam, who had already undone his
lashings. "Here, Robin, help me to untie this corner of the sail. I
had no idea that sleeping with one's side in a pool of water would make
one so cold and stiff."

"If it had bin a pool, Mr Shipton," said Slagg, "it wouldn't have made
you cold; 'cause why? you'd have made it warm. But it was the sea
washin' out and in fresh that kep' the temperater low--d'ee see?"

"What a cargo o' rheumatiz we've been a-layin' in this night for old
age," said Stumps ruefully, as he rubbed his left shoulder.

Throwing off the sail, Sam stood up and looked round, while an
exclamation of surprise and pleasure broke from him. The contrast
between the night and morning was more than usually striking. Not only
had darkness vanished and the wind gone down, but there was a dead calm
which had changed the sea into a sheet of undulating glass, and the sun
had just risen, flooding the sky with rosy light, and tipping the summit
of each swell with gleaming gold. The gentle, noiseless heaving of the
long swell, so far from breaking the rest of nature, rather deepened it
by suggesting the soft breathings of slumber. Ther