not study their beauty, nor
that of the myriads of phosphorescent creatures softly emitting flash
and spark, fathoms below in the clear water.

These were not the stars or sparks that had any interest for the
midshipman now. He watched with interest the lantern in the bows of the
schooner they were towing astern, and then from time to time walked
forward in the solemn silence, only broken by a sigh from the hold
uttered by some black sleeper, dreaming, perhaps, of the village
far-away in his own land; then laying the glass on the bulwark, Mark
carefully swept the horizon--astronomer like--in search of the star that
would send hope and delight into his breast--the lamp shown by the
_Nautilus_ coming down to their aid.

All this was done again and again, but there was no sign of that help,
and he felt angry with Captain Maitland and the lieutenant for
forgetting them, or leaving them to their fate.

"But of course they could not know what a pickle we are in," he said to
himself the next moment, as he resumed his patient watch, going to and
fro, noting that steersman and blacks were all intent upon their duty,
while Tom Fillot was forward keeping a bright look-out.

And so hours passed, and then an intense feeling of drowsiness came for
him to combat.

It made Mark angry with nature, for it seemed to be so absurd that after
taking a good mid-day rest he could not go through a night without
feeling so wretchedly sleepy. But after a good sluice in a fresh bucket
of water he felt better, and getting a biscuit, began to nibble that and
walked forward again. Then back to the cabin, and grew melancholy to
see his brother officer lying there so utterly helpless, just when he
wanted his aid so badly.

Once more in the bows he stood using his glass in vain, and then telling
himself that it was not to be expected, he turned to Tom Fillot.

"I suppose we shall not sight the _Nautilus_," he said.

"No, sir, I don't expect it. Two or three days more like this, though,
and we shall be in port without her help."

"I hope we shall," said Mark, rather despondently; and, tucking his
glass under his arm, he went aft again toward where he could see the
faint glow from the binnacle light shining up in the steersman's face.

He spoke to the man at the wheel.

"Quite an easy job," he said.

"Ay, ay, sir: easy enough. Wish it was a little rougher, for
everything's so quiet that it's sleepy work."

"For all of us, my lad," sa