The captain’s plan was agreed upon, and in what seemed to be the middle of the night, Jack was awakened from a dream of watching a cup-headed mountain playing at throwing up and catching a huge red-hot ball, by a voice at his berth-side saying—
“Coffee’s about ready, Mr Jack—t’other gents has begun to dress.”
For some moments Jack stared at him stupidly. “What time is it?” he stammered at last. “Some bells or another, sir—I dunno; but the men have got the boats out, and the things in for breakfast and lunch. They were at it before I woke.”
“I won’t be long,” said Jack, yawning, and wishing the expedition at the bottom of the sea, for he felt dreadfully sleepy, and as if he would have given anything for another hour or two’s rest. It seemed absurd to be getting up in the dark when there was all the day before them, and altogether he was in that disposition of mind which people say is caused by getting out of bed the wrong way first.
The doctor noticed it as the lad left his cabin to find a comfortable meal spread by the light of the cabin lamp, and the odour of coffee coming fragrantly from a steaming urn.
“Here, look at him,” cried the doctor. “Mind, or he’ll bite.”
“Why, Jack, my boy,” cried Sir John merrily; “don’t look so fierce as that.”
“I didn’t know I looked fierce,” said the lad in an ill-used tone. “I can’t help feeling tired and sleepy.”
“Of course he can’t,” said Doctor Instow. “He had a very hard day yesterday. Here, I’ll set him right. You go back to bed, Jack, and lie there till we come back. You’ll be as fresh as can be then.”
“What, let you go without me?” cried the boy, with a sudden display of animation. “Of course. It is too much for you.”