The Surgeon’s Yarn Continued—The Pleasant Home of a Robber chief—Face to Face with Death.
“The poet Daniel calls sleep ‘son of the sable night,’ and brother to Death.
“‘Care charmer sleep, son of the sable night,
Brother to Death, in silent darkness born.’
“I might add that sleep is also the brother to sorrow and care, and a kind and gentle brother he is.
“No sooner had Captain Brackenbury and his supercargo, O’Brady, been shown to their apartment on that memorable night, and left in the dark, than—
“‘Well, Brackenbury,’ said O’Brady, ‘here’s a nice wind-up to a windy day. But I vote we make the best of a bad job. I’m dog-tired and as sleepy as an old owl. I’m going to turn in, even if I have to turn out in the morning to get my head taken off.’
“‘So shall I,’ replied Brackenbury. ‘But what an uncivil brute of a black servant that is! Why, he might as well have left the light!’
“‘No doubt he’s acting according to orders, my friend,’ said O’Brady. ‘And duty is duty, of course, on board a ship or out of it.’
“‘Oh yes,’ Brackenbury acquiesced, ‘duty is duty, as you say. But can you find the head of your bed?’
“‘Yes, mine is towards the fireplace, and yours is towards the door.’