Walter nodded in acquiescence, and the incident passed.
As an anchor light was hoisted, and as there was no need for any particular caution, no watch was kept, every one retiring by eleven o'clock. Often, when the young people had been on outings together, Cora and her girl friends had had a "giggling-spell" after retiring to their rooms. But now none of them felt like making fun. It was rather a solemn little party aboard the Tartar.
The hope and plan of the young travelers to leave early in the morning, and make a circuit of the island, for a possible sight of the refugees, was not destined to be carried out. For somewhere around two o'clock, when bodily functions are said to be at their lowest ebb, Walter heard Jack calling to him.
"I say, old man, I wish, you would come here. Something's the matter with me," came in a hoarse whisper.
"Eh? What's that? Something the matter?" murmured Walter, sleepily.
"Yes, I feel pretty rocky,", was Jack's answer. "Would you mind getting me a little of that nerve stuff the doctor put up for me? It might quiet me so I could go to sleep."
"Great Scott, man! Haven't you been asleep yet?"
"No," was Jack's miserable answer. "I've just been lying here on my back, staring up at the darkness, and now I'm seeing things."
"Seeing things!" faltered Walter.
"Yes, blue centipedes and red sharks. It's like the time I keeled over at college, you know."