“Nonsense!” said Murray, in a voice which sounded to be full of annoyance. “That’s the morning breeze beginning to blow.”
“Well, I don’t care, sir,” grumbled the big sailor; “it ought to have been to-morrow morning before now. Sun must be late. I never knowed such a long night before.”
“It’s coming, Tom, and before long. Isn’t that the warm glow?”
“No,” said the sailor shortly. “As you said, there’s a breeze coming up from somewhere or another, and tidy strong, too.”
“Yes,” said Murray.
“Well, it’s blowing up the embers of the fire that was burning its way through the woods.”
“Think so, Tom?” said Murray, his companion’s words arousing his interest.
“Yes, sir; that’s it. Can’t you see that it looks reddish?”
“So does the sunrise.”
“Yes, sir, that’s true; but all the same I’m sartain that’s the fire brightening up a bit. We haven’t seen no pale dawn yet.”