face of this great trouble.

The night was approaching fast, and Jack shuddered at the thought of the
darkness, and what it would bring; and once more it seemed impossible
that the strong, active fellow who had been his companion that morning
should be passing away.

If he could only have done something besides kneel there, keeping the
poor fellow's head cool--something that would have helped him in his
terrible fight with death--he would not have suffered so much; but to be
so completely impotent seemed more than he could bear.

"You will go to bed early, Jack," said his father that evening, when the
cabin was almost dark from the lamp being turned low.

"No, father; I am going to stop here, please," he replied.

"I will take your place, my boy. I feel too that we owe a great duty to
the faithful fellow who has served us so long. You are tired out."

"No, father, I don't feel a bit tired now. Don't ask me to leave him.
It is so hard with no one who knows him here; and I feel as if he will
come to his senses some time, and would like to speak to me. I never
did anything for him, but he always seemed to like me."

"Very well, Jack," said Sir John quietly, "I will not press you to go.
But you will take necessary refreshment from time to time?"

"I could not touch anything," said the boy with a shudder.

"If you do not you will break down."

"Tell the steward to bring me some tea, then, by and by. You will go to
bed?"

"I? No, my boy. I could not sleep."

Jack was left alone with the patient save when every half-hour or so the
doctor and Sir John came down from the deck to minister in some way, and
the long-drawn-out night slowly passed, with poor Ned breathing
painfully, and lying nearly motionless, till a faint light began to come
through the cabin windows, and the distant cries of birds floated to him
over the sea.

Another day was at hand, and the solemnity of the hour seemed appalling
to the watcher as he rose and went to the open window. A sense of the
terrible loneliness of the sea oppressed him, and, exhausted now, he
felt how helpless he was, how awful and strange was the change from
night to the coming of another day.

There was not a sound to be heard on deck, though he knew that there
were watchers there too, but not a footfall nor a whisper could be
heard.

He stood there looking at the paling stars and the faint streaks of soft
light low down in the east, till the black water stretc