the churning of the propeller,
nor the rattling of the rudder chains, nor the lapping of the
waves, nor the whistling of the wind, nor any other sound. It
seemed to him that the ship had suddenly gone to the bottom, and
that he and his mates would never be shrouded or laid in their
coffins, but must remain hanging in their gray hammocks in the
depths of the sea till the Day of Judgment.

Before, he had always dreaded the thought that his end might be a
watery grave, but now the idea of it was pleasing to him. He was
glad it was the moving and transparent water that covered him, and
not the heavy, black, suffocating mould of the churchyard. "There's
nothing like the sea," he thought again.

Then he fell to thinking of something that made him uneasy. He
wondered whether his lying at the bottom of the ocean without
having received Extreme Unction would not be bad for his soul; he
began to fear that now his soul would never be able to find its way
up to Heaven.

At that moment his eye caught a faint glimmer of light coming from
the forecastle. He raised himself, and leaned over the side of the
hammock to see what it was. Presently he saw two persons coming,
each of whom was carrying a lighted candle. He bent still farther
forward so as to see who they were. The hammocks were hung so close
together and so near to the floor that any one wanting to pass
through the room, without pushing or knocking against those who
were sleeping there, would have to crawl on hands and knees. The
old seaman wondered who the persons could be that were able to pass
in this crowded place. He soon discovered that they were two
diminutive acolytes, in surplice and cassock, each bearing a
lighted candle.

The sailor was not at all surprised. It seemed only natural that
such little folk should be able to walk with burning candles under
hammocks. "I wonder if there is a priest with them?" he said.
Immediately he heard the tinkling sound of a little bell, and saw
some one following them. However, it was no priest, but an old
woman who was not much bigger than the boys.

The old woman looked familiar to him. "It must be mother," he
thought. "I've never seen any one as tiny as mother, and surely no
one but mother could be coming along so softly and quietly without
waking people."

He noticed that his mother wore over her black dress a long white
linen surplice, edged with a wide border of lace, such as is worn
by priests. In her hand she held t