People on board ship, when they know it's going to
sink, all behave quite calmly and patiently. There was that ship that
was being burned with the soldiers on board. They all stood up before
their officers, waiting for the end, and went down at last like men.
But I don't feel despairing like, and as if we were going to die."

Then he began to think of his peaceful home life, and of the days at
school till about a year ago, when he had come home to study military
matters with his father and Major Jollivet, prior to being sent to one
of the military colleges in about a year's time.

"And now this mining has altered everything," mused Gwyn, "and--"

He started violently, sprang up, and looked about him, for his name had
been uttered loudly close to his ear.

But all was still now, and a curious creepy sensation ran through him
and made him shiver with apprehension--a strange, superstitious kind of
apprehension, as if something invisible were close to him.

"What a cowardly donkey!" he muttered, for his name was uttered again,
and plainly enough it came from Joe.

"Talking in his sleep; and I was ready to fancy it was something `no
canny.' Why I must have been dropping off to sleep, too, and it
startled me into wakefulness. This won't do. Sentries must not sleep
at their posts."

He began to do what the soldiers call "sentry go." But in a few minutes
he grew so weary and hot that he was glad to stop by his sleeping
companion, and stand looking down at him lying so peacefully there with
his head upon his hand.

"Just as if he were in a feather bed and with a soft pillow under his
cheek. Wish I could lie down and have a nap for half-an-hour. I will,
and then he can have another."

Gwyn bent down to waken his companion, who just then burst out with a
merry laugh.

"Oh, I say, father, you shouldn't," he said. "Just as if I didn't take
care. It isn't--"

"Isn't what, Joe?" said Gwyn, softly.

"The wrong bottle. You're always thinking I give you the wrong
medicine, and saying it tastes different. Hah!"

He ended with a long deep sigh of content, and lay perfectly silent.

"I can't wake him," muttered Gwyn; and with a weary groan he seated
himself once more, supporting his back against the side of the gallery,
for he was too weak and tired to stand, and in an instant he was out in
the bright sunshine, with the water making the boat he was in dance and
the sail flap, as he glided along out of the cave