I could see nothing, only that there was a broken lustre of the stars reflected on the water; and if it was one of the monsters it slowly glided away.
Then it began to grow colder and colder, and as I sat and gazed before me, the dark trees standing above the flood grew misty, and a pleasant sensation was stealing over me, when I felt my arm grasped tightly, and I gave quite a jump.
“No, no, my boy!” said my father, sternly. “You must not give way to that.”
“I—I—” I faltered.
“You were dropping off to sleep,” said my father, firmly. “You must master the desire. Hannibal, take care that Pomp does not go to sleep.”
“Him sleep long time, sah,” said the black. “Wake um up?”
“No; let him sleep; only keep watch over him, or he may slide into the water.”
There was silence again, only broken by a low sigh or two from Sarah, to whom Morgan muttered something again and again as the time crawled slowly on and the waters still rose higher and higher toward our feet.
Never did the night seem so long before, and the only relief I had in my wearisome position was derived from the efforts I had to make from time to time to master the terrible feeling of drowsiness which would keep coming on.
Every now and then there was a little buzz of conversation, and I made out that my father asked every one’s opinion, and made all try to make out how much higher the water had risen, so as to excite their interest, though it was all plain enough.