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For a moment he thought of awakening the children to keep him company, but he was ashamed. Then he took to the sculls again, and rowed “by the feel of the water.” The creak of the oars was like a companion’s voice, the exercise lulled his fears. Now and again, forgetful of the sleeping children, he gave a halloo, and paused to listen. But no answer came.

Then he continued rowing, long, steady, laborious strokes, each taking him further and further from the boats that he was never destined to sight again.

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“Is it aslape I’ve been?” said Mr Button, suddenly awaking with a start.

He had shipped his oars just for a minute’s rest. He must have slept for hours, for now, behold! a warm, gentle wind was blowing, the moon was shining, and the fog was gone.

“Is it dhraming I’ve been?” continued the awakened one. “Where am I at all, at all? O musha! sure, here I am. O wirra! wirra! I dreamt I’d gone aslape on the main-hatch and the ship was blown up with powther, and it’s all come true.”