“Don’t feel a bit sleepy now, do you?” asked Dummy.
“Not in the least. I say, are you sure that you can go on without taking a wrong turning?”
“Oh yes, I’m right enough, Master Mark.”
“How far is it now?”
“On’y ’bout fifty fathom or so. We’re just getting to the rise.”
“Then we—no, you’re wrong. We can’t be. Why, if we were so near the mouth we should see daylight.”
“What! in the middle o’ the night? Not you.”
“What! You don’t think it’s so late as that?”
“Yes, I do. It’s past twelve o’clock, if it’s a minute.”
“Then we must have slept a very long time below there.”