He found himself seated in a little bare apare apartment half charred by fire, and having damp straw for flooring. His companions, including the officer, were stretched out upon it.
They seemed in blissful ignorance of the fact that it was damp.
The sailor rose to his feet; he was rather stiff and sore, and somewhat hungry, but he felt that he ought to be glad to be alive.
And then he stole quickly over to the tiny window to look out; naturally enough he was a little curious to see what sort of a place it was they had hit on in the darkness.
There was light, then, plenty of it—too much in fact, so the man thought. It showed him everything.
And the everything must have included something rather startling. For the sailor acted in a most surprising way.
He took a single glance out of the window; and then he staggered back as if some one had shot him.
The man's face was as white as a sheet.
He stood for a moment seemingly dazed, his eyes staring vacantly. And then suddenly he made a leap across the room and seized Clif by the shoulder.
It was a startling way for Clif to be awakened; the face of that man had a sort of nightmare look.