On the above curious subject a retired naval officer obligingly sends us the following notes.
One bright moonlight night I was on deck, as was frequently my wont, chatting with the lieutenant of the middle watch. It was nearly calm, the ship making little way through the water, and the moon’s light nearly as bright as day. We were together leaning over the capstan, chatting away, when W—— suddenly exclaimed: ‘Look! H——, at that sentry,’ and pointing to the quarter-deck marine who was pacing slowly backwards and forwards on the lee-side of the deck.
‘Well,’ I replied, after watching him somewhat inattentively as he passed once or twice on his regular beat, ‘what of him?’
‘Why, don’t you see he is fast asleep? Take a good look at him when he next passes.’
I did so, and found W—— was right. The man, although pacing and turning regularly at the usual distance, was fast asleep with his eyes closed.
When next the man passed, W—— stepped quickly and noiselessly to his side, and pacing with him, gently disengaged the bunch of keys which were his special charge—being the keys of the spirit-room, shell-rooms, store-rooms, &c.—from the fingers of his left hand, to which they were suspended by a small chain; he then removed the bayonet from his other hand, and laid it and the keys on the capstan head. After letting him take another turn or two, W—— suddenly called ‘Sentry!’
‘Sir?’ replied the man, instantly stopping and facing round as he came to the ‘attention.’
‘Why, you were fast asleep, sentry.’
‘No, sir.’