thirst from which we had suffered so
intensely.

Arthur had at first taken out of the locker the large bottle which had
been found there, in the hope of being able to hoard up a small supply
for the future; but there was not a drop of surplus for such a purpose,
and he was obliged to put it back again empty as before.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

TOKENS OF LAND.

THE CENTRE OF THE SPHERE--THE MYSTERIOUS SOUND--THE CONFLAGRATION.

"Thou glorious sea! before me gleaming,
Oft wilt thou float in sunset pride,
And often shall I hear in dreaming,
Thy resonance at evening tide!"

At sunset every trace of the storms by which we had been so recently
encompassed had vanished: the sky, except along the western horizon, was
without a cloud: not a breath of wind ruffled the sea, and we lay once
more completely becalmed.

This was our third night at sea; though to me, at least, it seemed that
many days had passed since the mutiny and the immediately succeeding
occurrences. It is a night which I shall not soon forget; the
impression of its almost unearthly beauty is still fresh and vivid, and
haunts me like a vision of fairy land. At this moment if I but close my
eyes, the whole scene rises before me with the distinctness of a
picture; though one would naturally suppose that persons situated as we
then were, could scarcely have been in a state of mind congenial to the
reception of such impressions.

The transition from early twilight to the darkness of night was
beautiful beyond description. The array of clouds in the west just
after sunset; their forms, arrangement, and colours; with the manner in
which they blended and melted into one another, composed a spectacle, of
the magnificence of which, neither language, nor the art of the painter,
can convey any adequate idea. Along the edge of the horizon stretched a
broad tract of the deepest crimson, reflecting far upon the waters, a
light that gave them the appearance of an ocean of blood. Above this
was a band of vivid flame colour: then one of a clear translucent green,
perfectly peculiar, unlike that of any leaf or gem, and of surpassing
delicacy and beauty. This gradually melted, through many fine
gradations, into a sea of liquid amber, so soft and golden, that the
first large stars of evening, floating in its transparent depths, could
scarcely be distinguished, as they twinkled mildly, amid the flood of
kindred radiance. A narrow streak of pearly blue bounded this