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THE DEAD CALM.
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drew them up by painful efforts, expending all his vast strength and sapping the vitality out of him.

Not a cloud broke the monotony of that blue sky, which appeared to be doubled and deepened in the heaving ocean, along which rolled slow swells that lifted the baking hull up and down or from side to side with a weary and sickening motion. Not a breath of air came to cool this rarefied atmosphere amid which they all gasped.

They had taken a little claret and the uncooled water with a few biscuits, for none could eat much in this burning stagnation, therefore they felt faint as well as dejected.

So the afternoon wore away slowly, and the sun went over the oily sea like a blood-coloured ball, but the expected wind did not come; indeed, when night fell and the new moon hung for a while like a golden sickle and then also disappeared, leaving the stars glowing fiercely above that green space, the sultry heat still continued, lapping them in wearied lassitude.

They filled and lighted the lamps early, and went together from one part of the ship to the other, feeling as if it was a haunted vessel. While the women went to the caboose to cook supper, Dennis, and even the doctor, hung about the doorway and watched them silently. The wheel was firmly lashed up, and did not require looking after with this calm. None of them cared to be left alone in the dark, but glanced often over their shoulders as if expecting to see something.

By and by, when supper was ready, they all helped to carry the dishes to the lighted cabin, keeping close together while they did so. A hasty supper it was of tinned soup, followed by salted beef and potatoes,