"Miss Croyden," I said, "this end of the raft is yours. Here you may sleep in peace."
"How kind you are," the girl murmured.
"You will be quite safe from interference," I added. "I give you my word that I will not obtrude upon you in any way."
"How chivalrous you are," she said.
"Not at all," I answered, as musically as I could. "Understand me, I am now putting my head over this partition for the last time. If there is anything you want, say so now."
"Nothing," she answered.
"There is a candle and matches beside you. If there is anything that you want in the night, call me instantly. Remember, at any hour I shall be here. I promise it."
"Good night," she murmured. In a few minutes her soft regular breathing told me that she was asleep.
I went forward and seated myself in a tar-bucket, with my head against the mast, to get what sleep I could.
But for some time—why, I do not know—sleep would not come.