kness, but we sat in the terrible
silence, utterly exhausted, and rapidly growing chilled through and
through in our saturated clothes. I remember looking out, and away
through the darkness towards the shore as I thought, but I could see
nothing till I raised my eyes toward the sky, and then I saw that the
clouds had been driven away by the wind, and the stars were out, while
straight before me there was the only constellation I knew--the Great
Bear.

I was too weary for it to trouble me, but I learned then that the boat
must have turned almost completely round since we had left off rowing,
for where I had thought the land lay was out to sea, and the Welsh
coast--in fact I had been looking due north instead of due south.

It did not trouble me much, for I was hungry and thirsty, and then I
felt sleepy, and then shivering with cold, while a few minutes later I
felt as if nothing mattered at all, for I was utterly wearied out.

Bigley was the first to speak, but it was not in the fierce tone of a
short time before. He seemed to have changed back into our big mild
school-fellow as he said:

"Come on over here, Sep, and let's all creep together. It won't be so
cold then."

I noted the change in his tone, but I could not say anything, only obey
him.

"Come, Bob," I said, as I climbed over the thwart, and tried to stand
steadily in the dancing boat.

But Bob did not move or speak, and we others crept close to his side,
beginning by edging up and leaning against each other, shivering the
while, but the improvement was so great at the end of a few minutes,
that we thrust our arms under each other's soaked jackets, and held on
as closely as we could, to feel bitterly cold outside but comfortably
warm on the inner.

The stars came out more and more, the wind died away, and the short
dancing motion by very slow degrees subsided into a regular cradle-like
rock, that, in spite of the cold, had a lulling effect upon us; and at
last I seemed to be thinking of the miserable-looking mine in the Gap,
and my father scolding me for going away without asking leave, and then
everything seemed to be nothing, and nothing else.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

A FRIEND IN NEED.

I suppose it was an uneasy movement made by Bob Chowne that awoke me,
and as I started away, and looked round at the darkness, and felt the
motion of the boat, I trembled, and could not for the time make out
where I was, or what all this peculiar sensation of c