“I hope not Billy, but Mr Rogers says that he thinks you have been struck by moon-blindness, from sleeping with your eyes open, gazing too long at Dame Luna. You would have got in a precious scrape if that had not happened. I suppose Mr Rogers won’t report you now.”
Again Billy groaned. He had much rather have been reported and punished than have lost his sight, as he now supposed was the case. As soon as Tom’s watch was over, he came down to see Billy, who was still groaning at the thoughts of having lost his sight. Tom did not think matters so serious. Intending to comfort Billy, he told him that in consideration of what had happened, the captain would not be severe on him.
Billy at last groaned himself to sleep. He awoke just before daylight. All was as dark as ever, but, though he began to groan again, he very soon once more dropped off to sleep. At last he was aroused by hearing the hammocks piped up. He instinctively tumbled out of his, when what was his surprise to find that he could see as well as ever, though his eyes ached a little, and he felt an uncomfortable smarting about them.
He hastily dressed and went on deck. The discovery that he could see threw him into high spirits. He began to tell every one of his wonderful recovery. In a short time the doctor heard of what had happened, and called him up to hear about it and to examine his eyes.
“I don’t wish to damp your spirits, but you must not be too sure of retaining your sight,” observed the surgeon.
Still Billy would not believe this, and was perfectly satisfied that he was all right. At night, however, what was his disappointment when, directly the sun set, he became blind and had to be led below to his hammock. In vain the doctor applied remedies—none of them had the slightest effect. Poor Billy was under the impression that he should have to leave the service without a chance of becoming one of England’s admirals, or even obtaining his lieutenancy.
The two ships, still keeping in company, had a long spell of fine weather, but at length one evening it came on to blow hard. The wind increased during the night, and on the following day a terrific storm of thunder and lightning burst over the ship. The Orion, which had hitherto kept company, was lost sight off. The thunder rolled and rattled, and flash succeeded flash, each more vivid than the first. Several times it appeared as if the ship herself would be struck, as the forked lightning, bursting from the mass of dark clouds above, went zig-zagging over the summits of the waves. It was Tom’s watch. Billy, who, in the day time, could do duty as well as ever, was on deck, as indeed were most of the officers, who had come up to witness the terrific strife of the elements. Billy was standing by himself, when a flash, darting through the air, passed so close to him that it appeared as if he had been struck. It was seen to flash across the deck and to lose itself in the foaming ocean. Billy uttered a cry and put his hands to his eyes. Tom asked him if anything had happened.
He answered, “No, only the lightning looked very bright. I thought I was struck.”
The gale continued. No one thought of leaving the deck. Night came on, yet Billy remained moving about as he had not done for several weeks past.
“Why, Billy, you seem, to be able to see your way as well as ever,” said Tom, who observed him.