"Well, then, I went downstairs again and—"
"Yes, you went below and—"
"Well, sir, I fear I was very wicked; for I began to say my prayers, and fell asleep in the middle of them."
"Why, Jack, it's eight bells—four o'clock.—Forward there! Eight bells! Call the watch!"
Ring-ding, ring-ding, ring-ding, ring-ding.
Jack went quickly down below, and began to undress. He felt tired and sleepy now, and could almost have gone to bed with his boots on.
His chest—it was not a large one—stood outside the dispensary door. There Jack knelt to pray.
Then he quickly caught hold of a ring in a beam, and swung himself into his hammock. He could do so now without tumbling out again at the other side.
I think his head had hardly touched the pillow when he was fast asleep—a happy, dreamless, sailor's slumber.