That day passed quietly enough. The weather was hot, but tempered by a
gentle gale, which wafted them on their way; and, as Mark gazed at the
verdant shore through a glass and then at the glistening sea, it seemed
to him as if Heaven was smiling upon their efforts to save the poor
weak, trembling creatures, who were ready to wince and shrink away every
time he marched forward to where their part of the deck was shut off by
a rope stretched taut from side to side. But as soon as he put off the
stern official look he wore--an unconscious copy of Captain Maitland's
quarter-deck manner--and smiled at them, their faces lit up, and he felt
as if they would go down upon their knees to him and kiss his feet, if
he would permit it.
Already they looked better, and, like those in the second prize, basked
in the sunshine, and talked together in a low, soft, pleasantly-sounding
tongue.
The second prize was visited twice, and in addition to Taters, Grote and
Dance were left on board, to take it in turns at the wheel and manage
the little sail, hoisted now to help the steering and ease the strain on
the tow-rope.
So everything went well that day: the Americans were quiet down below,
and though the progress made was only slow, Mark felt hopeful, as he
swept the horizon with his glass, of seeing the _Nautilus_ come round
some point, or appear in the offing at any time.
That night, so as to guard against their being passed by their friends
in the darkness, lights were hoisted as a signal that would be pretty
sure to bring them help; and this being done, Tom Fillot approached his
superior respectfully, to speak him, as he called it, about the division
of the watches.
"You'll let me take the first, sir, while you'll go below and have a
good sleep, sir, won't you?" he said.
"Certainly not," said Mark, shortly. "So sure as I go to sleep,
something happens."
"But you can't do without sleep, sir," said the man.
"I can to-night, Tom. I've been resting and having little naps of a few
minutes at a time all day."
"Well, sir, begging your pardon, it's the rummest sort o' rest I ever
see. Take my word for it, sir, you can't hold up."
"I must somehow, Tom; so no more words. Look here, we'll seep watch
together, and the one who feels drowsy can take a nap now and then,
ready to start up at the slightest alarm."
"Very well, sir, if you won't sleep reg'lar, so be it."
But it proved to be hard work. Nature is a terrible tyrant to those who
try to break her laws, and after about an hour's duty on deck, when the
clustering stars had been watched, and their reflections in the sea, the
wheel visited again and again, an ear given from time to time at the
forecastle hatch and ventilator, where everything was silent as the
grave, all of a sudden Mark would find himself at home, talking to his
father and mother, or on board the _Nautilus_, listening to Mr Whitney,
the doctor, or to the captain, and then start up with a jerk to find he
had been asleep.
"How long was I off, Tom?" he would whisper, angry with himself.
"'Bout five minutes, sir."
"Not more?"
"No, sir."
"That's right. All quiet?"
"Yes, sir. Have another."
"Nonsense! I'm better now."
Mark took a turn to the wheel, said a few words to the steersman, and
returned to his seat, to find that in those brief minutes Tom Fillot had
gone off too, but only to start up, fully awake, at the moment his young
officer sat down.
"Look here, sir," he said; "mortal natur' won't bear it. I'll take a
trot up and down now while you sleep."
"I'm not going to sleep," said Mark, shortly.
"Begging your pardon, sir, you are," said Tom; and he took a few turns
up and down, to return at last and find Mark quite fast.
"I knowed it," he said to himself, but he had hardly thought this when
Mark started up again, vexed with himself, but unable to control the
desire for rest.
The consequence was that during the next two hours this natural process
went on, the one who sat down going off instantly to sleep, while the
other kept up his sentry-like walk, and no more words were uttered
respecting it. They felt that it was nature's work and accepted their
position till toward midnight, when Mark was resting with his back to
the bulwark, and his chin upon his breast, sleeping heavily, as he had
been for about a minute. Tom Fillot stepped up lightly to his side and
touched him.
"Yes? What?" cried Mark, starting up in alarm.
"Hist, sir! Steady! They're a-breaking out."
"What!" said Mark, in an awe-stricken whisper, as his hands
involuntarily sought pistol and dirk.
"Hark!" came in a whisper to his ear; and leaning forward and peering
into the darkness, he distinctly heard at intervals a faint, dull clink,
as if some one were very carefully and slowly moving pieces of iron.
For the moment, half drowsed still by his desire for sleep, Mark could
not make out what it meant. Then he grasped the meaning of the sound.
"Why, Tom Fillot," he whispered, "they're getting off the chain cable
from the hatch."
"That's it, sir; link by link."