not to lift and lean and recover with a
monstrous jerk as a point is being approached. "It's fierce," said he,
referring to the idea of infinite abyss. I could agree from the smaller
one which I myself seemed to be probing.

Sleep was not easy during these early hours of my holiday. I spent an
awkward night or two, listening to rattlings of all sorts, the
battering-ram shocks of the seas, and the thump of the engines,
watching the sweat on the rivets of my roof roll like the bubble in a
spirit-level, and my towel float out to an apparent unperpendicular
side to side. In this state of things I easily came to know the features
of my cabin, described on the door-key as "spare cabin port." Amidships it
was, between the wireless operator's premises and the captain's. The
porthole faced the poop, and more immediately, the ship's squat
funnel. Beneath the porthole, a padded seat was fixed; and I had on
one length of the room a disused radiator, a chest of drawers and a
washstand with mirror, where, despite a ventilator above, light rarely
seemed to come. On the opposite length there was a tall malodorous
cupboard and two bunk beds, of which I chose the lower one from sound
instinct at the beginning, keeping to it from force of habit afterwards.
Such was my dwelling; but I must not fail to mention the electric light
and fan. The place was painted white, but its past use as a store had
variegated it.

The steward likewise visited me here, and sympathized. The old fellow
talked to me much as if I had known him all my life; he being known well
enough, indeed, to the company for whom he was going to sea in his old
age. A scarred nose distinguished him for a time. He complained, with
a sort of personal visualization of the sea's boorishness, that while
attending to some stores he had been blown off a case into a barrel of
flour.

Having therefore spent the best part of my first two days at sea in
my cabin, which offered no great variety in itself, I was much pleased
to find myself able to arise, manfully, the third day. But I avoided
breakfast. The morning looked inviting, the black funnel gleaming even
richly in the sun, so presently I took the air. First, I had found some
difficulty in shaving, even with a safety razor; but it was accomplished.

We were still in the Bay of Biscay, and the _Bonadventure_ had not done
lurching and wallowing. To my naive eye, the sea was in considerable
commotion. Like ever-changing rocky coasts