When he had gone I brought the vessel's head round to the course indicated, and then settled myself down to a long night's vigil. How wearying it was I must leave my readers to imagine. The night was bitterly cold, but I was so wrapt up in what I was doing, that I paid small heed to that. At regular intervals I left the wheel-room and went to the bridge above, to make sure that no vessel was in sight. Then I would return to my post and remain there for another quarter of an hour. It was wearying work, and more than once I was so nearly over-powered by sleep that it became necessary for me to stamp my feet and pinch myself in order to keep awake. At last, after what seemed an eternity of waiting, the first signs of approaching day were to be observed in the sky. Then a faint grey light overspread the sea, touching the little waves until they had the appearance of frosted silver. When it was quite light I left the wheel and made my way up to the bridge. Still no sail was in sight, and for all I could see to the contrary, ours might have been the only vessel upon the ocean. At seven o'clock, when I was beginning to feel faint for want of food, I spoke through the tube to Castellan, asking him to send one of his companions in search of a meal. He informed me that Woller would go immediately, and on hearing that I returned to my post. I had not been there many minutes, before I heard a shout outside, and Woller, excited beyond measure, made his appearance at the wheel-house door. "A ship! a ship!" he cried. "A man-of-war, if I'm not mistaken, and not more than five miles away!" Before he could say anything more I was out on the deck beside him, holding on to the rail and watching a large black man-of-war coming up hand-over-hand. She was certainly not more than five miles distant, and every moment brought her nearer. Hastening to the engine-room tube, I called to Castellan to stop our vessel; then, asking Woller to take the wheel, I ran aft to the signal-locker in the companion hatch. To pick out the Union Jack and to bend it on the peak halyards occupied scarcely more time than it takes to tell. Then I ran it up to half-mast as a signal of distress, and having done so, went aft to the taffrail and waited for the other vessel to come up to us. She made an imposing picture in the bright morning light as she came cleaving her way through the water, and when I remembered all that her coming meant to us, I could have kissed her very decks in thankfulness.