and at nine the skipper followed his example. The
ship was then stealing along through the water at a speed of about two
knots, the royals, topgallantsails, and more lofty staysails just
"asleep," the topsails alternately filling out and flapping again to the
masts with the barely perceptible swing of the ship over the low, long,
sleepy heave of the swell, and the courses drooping heavily and
uselessly from the yards. The sky was "as clear as a bell," to use a
favourite metaphor of Ritson's, not a trace of cloud being visible in
any part of the vast sapphire vault which stretched overhead, spangled
here and there with a few stars of the first magnitude, and with the
moon, nearly at the full, hanging in the midst like a disc of burnished
silver, her pure soft light flooding the sea with its dazzling radiance,
and causing the sails to stand out like sheets of ivory against the deep
dark blue of the sky. There seemed to be no immediate prospect of any
change in the weather, but George was thankful that the ship was really
at last moving once more--though ever so slowly--in the right direction;
and, fervently hoping that the breeze would last long enough to run him
into the "trades," he went below with an easy mind, after giving Ritson
the usual stereotyped order to call him should any untoward event occur.

After the overpowering heat of the day the comparative coolness of the
night was unspeakably refreshing, and with all the doors, the skylight,
and the stern-windows open, and a thorough circulation of fresh air
through the cabins, their several occupants were soon wrapped in a sound
and dreamless slumber.

It was even more pleasant on deck than it was below, for the hull of the
ship had, during the long scorching day, absorbed a considerable amount
of heat, which it gave off again during the night, causing the cabins
and forecastle to be unpleasantly warm even after all possible means had
been adopted for their thorough ventilation, whilst on deck the full
benefit of the breeze, what there was of it, was to be obtained.

Such, at all events, was Mr Ritson's opinion, as he sauntered
listlessly fore and aft, between the taffrail and the main-mast,
glancing now aloft at the all but idle canvas, then into the binnacle,
then over the side at the tiny bubbles creeping lazily past the ship's
side, and finally forward, to where the man on the lookout could be seen
seated upon the rail, facing ahead, with his arms folded and