e night to take charge of the "Happy
Return," and thus by changing watch every two hours we got a fair amount
of sleep. Two hours at a stretch is all very well, but it is not
comfortable to be awakened out of a sound sleep in a warm, snug cabin,
to take one's turn at the helm; and I soon discovered that three turns
of two hours each is not nearly equivalent to a straightaway snooze of
six hours, by any means. One has just time to get comfortably off, and
then, "Ahoy, there! Larboard watch, turn out!" And then out you come to
set for two mortal hours in the wet stern sheets, gaping enough to
dislocate your jaw, and longing for the pleasure of dragging your mate
out at the expiration of the watch, while you turn into his warm bed
with a chuckling "Good-night, mate."

Gaping seems to be very infectious, for on Jethou I have several times
noticed that Alec and I, as bed time approached, would sit and gape at
each other in a most alarming manner, yet not apparently taking heed of
each other's performances, but gradually catching the infection
unawares.

On this particular night I gaped so as to be in danger of hitching my
upper teeth over the foremast head, in which case I must have swallowed
the whole mast, or have signalled to Alec for assistance.

Making the run across from Cape Griznez to Dover is no place for gaping,
let alone sleeping; for vessels are so continually passing to and fro
that one requires all their wits about them to keep clear of the
steamers. These monsters, with their red and green eyes, came looming up
so noiselessly in the still night, without the least warning (save these
same eyes) of approaching danger, that I almost shuddered as they passed
just ahead or astern, to think what might happen if either one of us
slept for only a few minutes on his post. Just a crash, a scream, and
all would be over, and the great steamer would most likely pass along on
her voyage, and no one be the wiser that a couple of lives had been
sacrificed to Morpheus.

When morning dawned the dear old chalk cliffs of Dover were looking down
upon our little cockle-shell, as she rose upon each glittering wave, and
looking up at those gigantic white cliffs, we seemed really to be at
home. Here was England at last, and I could not resist the temptation of
running into the harbour to once more put foot on my native land. We got
in about seven, and had a stroll about the hilly old place, then went to
a dining-room and had such