The night was calm and serene, and everything around them was still. Several small vessels were lying in the little cove--some ready to go to sea again with the next tide, having discharged their cargoes,--and others just come in, waiting for the dawn of day to begin their work of discharging their cargoes of coal and timber into the merchants' yards; and as the little boat glided by, the watch on deck would sing out, "Boat ahoy! what ship?" or, "Good night, shipmates;" and then all was still again; for the appearance of a small fisherman's boat going out at that hour of night did not arouse the least suspicion, and on they went swiftly and steadily.
The moon was shedding her soft pale light all around; and the oars, as they were "feathered" by the skilful rower, cast showers of silvery spray back into the water again at every stroke. Some of the white granite cliffs shone brightly in the moonlight, as its rays fell full upon them; while others, hid in shadows, seemed like some huge monsters, indistinct and terrible, towering above their lighter companions until they appeared almost lost in darkness, and imagination pictured them higher by many degrees than they really were.
On, on they went, bravely and swiftly; for the fear of pursuit impelled the rower to exert his strength to the utmost. But the strength of man will not always obey his will, and ere long he fell back in the boat exhausted and faint. He had but very recently, it will be remembered, risen from a bed of sickness, and the exertion and anxiety had been too much for him. His pluck had not deserted him, but he had exerted his strength beyond its power. Nature at last gave way, and he fell back insensible. His fall was sudden, and he dropped both the oars into the water. The boy was too much frightened to think of anything but his companion at the moment; so the oars drifted away, and the boat was left to the mercy of the waves, while the boy did all he could to revive the prostrate man.
He had brought no provisions with him--not even a can of water; for he thought that a few hours' rowing would bring them to the next cove, where they would land without suspicion, and procure anything and everything they wanted. Poor boy! he could do nothing but watch the invalid, and support his head on one of the thwarts of the boat, and this he did for a considerable time,--it seemed to him an age. At last kind nature came to his rescue, and the invalid opened his eyes to the boy's infinite relief, and in a short time he had so far recovered as to be able to comprehend their perilous situation. Fortunately it was a calm night, but there they were helpless and exhausted, and drifting out to sea with no provision on board. Morley gradually regained his former vigour of mind, if not of body, but it was only to bewail their sad fate.