He looked around him. It was dark. The ship was very still; there was no sense of movement, none of vibration from the engines. It seemed to him that in a hazy, vague way he had noticed that fact a long time ago. But, nevertheless, it was very curious!
He stood up again. This was better! He felt secure enough now on his feet. It was only as though a great fatigue were upon him, and that he seemed to be weighted down with lead—nothing more than that. He crossed to the window, drew the shade, and opened the window itself.
And then, for a long time, puzzled, his brows drawn together, he stood there staring out. Close at hand, though but faintly outlined in the darkness, he could see the shore. And it was not imagination, for beyond the shore line, he could see innumerable little lights twinkling.
It was strange! He rubbed his eyes. Here was something else! The window opened on a narrow, dimly lighted and deserted deck—one of the lower decks, he remembered. Below this deck, and evidently alongside of the steamer's hull, he could make out the upper-structure of some small vessel.
A figure came along the deck now from the forward end—one of the crew, Crang could see from the other's dress, as the man drew nearer. Crang thrust his head out of the window.
“I say, look here!” he called, as the other came opposite to him. “What's all this about? Where are we?”
“Down the bay a bit, that's all, sir,” the man answered. “We've had some engine trouble.”
Crang pointed to the small vessel alongside. A sudden, wild elation surged upon him.
“That's a tug down there, isn't it?” he said. “They're going to tow us back, I suppose?”
“Oh, no, sir,” the man replied. “It's the company's tug, all right, that they sent down to us, but she'll be going back as soon as we're off again. It's nothin' serious, and we won't be more'n another hour, sir.”