e sail under ye, and get some
sleep. There be no use in both o' us keeping awake. I'll watch till it
gets dark, an' then I'll join you. Go to sleep, lad! go to sleep!"

William was too wearied to make objection. Drawing the skirt of the
sail over the raft, he lay down upon it, and found sleep almost as soon
is he had composed himself into the attitude to enjoy it.

The sailor remained standing erect; now sweeping the horizon with his
glance, now bending his eye restlessly upon the water as it rippled
along the edge of the raft, and again returning to that distant
scrutiny,--so oft repeated, so oft unrewarded.

Thus occupied, he passed the interval of twilight,--short in these
latitudes; nor did he terminate his vigil until darkness had descended
upon the deep.

It promised to be a dark, moonless night. Only a few feebly gleaming
stars, thinly scattered over the firmament, enabled him to distinguish
the canopy of the sky from the waste of waters that surrounded him.
Even a ship under full spread of canvas could not have been seen, though
passing at a cable's length from the raft.

It was idle to continue the dreary vigil; and having arrived at this
conviction, the sailor stretched himself alongside his slumbering
companion, and, like the latter, was soon relieved from his
long-protracted anxiety by the sweet oblivion of sleep.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

THE MYSTERIOUS VOICE.

For several hours both remained wrapped in slumber, oblivious of the
perils through which they had passed,--equally unconscious of the
dangers that surrounded and still lay before them.

What a picture was there,--with no human eye to behold it! Two human
forms, a sailor and a sailor-boy, lying side by side upon a raft scarce
twice the length of their own bodies, in the midst of a vast ocean,
landless and limitless as infinity itself both softly and soundly
asleep,--as if reposing upon the pillow of some secure couch, with the
firm earth beneath and a friendly roof extended over them! Ah, it was a
striking tableau, that frail craft with its sleeping crew,--such a
spectacle as is seldom seen by human eye!

It was fortunate that for many hours they continued to enjoy the sweet
unconsciousness of sleep,--if such may be termed enjoyment. It was long
after midnight before either awoke: for there was nothing to awake them.
The breeze had kept gentle, and constant in the same quarter; and the
slight noise made by the water, as it went "swis