no sooner did the ladies see the doctor as he passed under the bell lantern and hear him humming, in his baritone voice, "The Marseillaise," than they began to consider the advisability of retiring to their mutual cabin, and therefore bidding their amorous swains a whispered and tender good night, they emerged from their sheltered corners, and approached the doctor arm in arm like the loving sisters that they were.
"Drink no coffee to-morrow," murmured the doctor in Italian, as he wished them both a good night.
He resumed his promenade after they had retired, and watched the sea and sky with interest. He was not at all inclined for bed, he told the mates, but would keep them company till their watch was up. So they walked about together, he asking, with all a landsman's curiosity, about the ship, with the latitude and longitude, questions which they cheerfully answered, for a sailor is never chary with his information.
So the next hour and a half passed, and eight bells sounded, when the watch was changed, and the second mate was roused up and took the charge of the ship without disturbing the captain.
Through the night the doctor remained awake, mostly walking slowly to and fro, but sometimes leaning over the taffrail and watching the phosphorescent waters as they scattered their pale flashes against the sides of the hull. He had arranged his different powders together, and was waiting, like the angel of death, on the hour.
Seven bells were struck; it was now half-past three o'clock; in another half-hour the watch would again be changed and coffee served out to all hands. The cook made an extra supply at five o'clock for the passengers. Remarking that he felt chilly to the second mate, he strolled over to the caboose, where the African cook was
