the terrible truths which
he had refused to believe were indeed great realities, and had now begun
to affect himself. He experienced an awful sinking of the heart when it
occurred to him that no one would ever know anything about his fate, for
the little boat would be sure to be found bottom up, sooner or later,
and it would of course be assumed that he had been drowned.

Shall it be said that the young midshipman was weak, or wanting in
courage, because he bowed his head and wept when the full force of his
condition came home to him? Nay, verily, for there was far more of
grief for the prolonged agony that was in store for his mother and
sister than for the fate that awaited himself. He prayed as well as
wept. "God help me--and them!" he exclaimed aloud. The prayer was
brief but sincere,--perhaps the more sincere because so brief. At all
events it was that acknowledgment of utter helplessness which secures
the help of the Almighty Arm.

Growing weary at last, he stretched himself on the locker, and, with the
facility of robust health, fell into a sound sleep. Youth, strength,
and health are not easily incommoded by wet garments! Besides, the
weather was unusually warm at the time.

How long he slept he could not tell, but the sun was high when he awoke,
and his clothes were quite dry. Other signs there were that he had
slept long, such as the steadiness of the breeze and the more regular
motion of the vessel, which showed that the gale was over and the sea
going down. There was also a powerful sensation in what he styled his
"bread-basket"--though it might, with equal truth, have been called his
meat-and-vegetable basket--which told him more eloquently than anything
else of the lapse of time.

Rising from his hard couch, and endeavouring to relieve the aching of
the bound arms by change of position, he observed that the cabin hatch
was open, and that nothing prevented his going on deck, if so disposed.
Accordingly, he ascended, though with some difficulty, owing to his not
having been trained to climb a ladder in a rough sea without the use of
his hands.

A Moor, he observed, had taken his friend Peter the Great's place at the
tiller, and the captain stood near the stern observing a passing vessel.
A stiffish but steady breeze carried them swiftly over the waves,
which, we might say, laughingly reflected the bright sunshine and the
deep-blue sky. Several vessels of different rigs and nationalities were