and on through the great silence and darkness that hovered together over the mighty deep, till all at once the boatswain startled Fitz by turning quite suddenly and saying to him—
“There aren’t no farmyard and a stable handy, sir, to give us what we want. Could you make shift to do it?”
“To do what?” said Fitz wonderingly. “Crow like a cock, sir. It’s just the right time now.”
“You don’t mean to say it’s morning, Butters?”
“No, sir; it’s Natur’ as is a-doing that. You’ve got your back to it. Turn round and look behind you. That’s the east.”
Both lads wrenched themselves round upon the thwart where they sat, to gaze back over the sea and catch the first glimpse of the faint dawn with its promises of hope and life, and the end of the terrible night through which they had passed.
And after the manner of the tropics, the broad daylight was not long in coming, followed by the first glint of the sun, which, as it sent a long line of ruddy gold over the surface of the sea, lit up one little speck of light miles upon miles to the north of where they lay.
Fitz Burnett was the first to make it out, but before he could speak the boatswain had seen it too, and broke out with—
“Three cheers, my lads. Put all you know into it, hearty. There lies the Teal. Can you see the skipper, Mr Poole, sir?”