The dome of the angels had come down and closed in round him, but bringing room for him, taking none away. It was blue, and filled with the loveliest white clouds, possessed by a blowing wind that never was able to blow them away. They were of strangely regular shapes; not the less were they alive--piled one above the other, up and up--up ever so high! They all kept their places, and some had the loveliest blue shadows upon them, which glided about a little. But the dome of the angels rose high, and ever higher still, above them. The dome of the angels was at home, and the clouds were at home in it. He gazed entranced at the sight. Then came a sudden strong heave and roll of the earthquake, and a light shone in his eyes that blinded him. It was but the strong friendly sun. When Clare opened his eyes again, he knew that he was lying on the deck of one of the great ships he had so frequently looked at from the shore. Oh, how often had he not longed after this one and that one of them, as if in some one somewhere, perhaps in that one, lay something he could not do without, which yet he could never set his eyes, not to say his hands upon. He had his heart’s desire, and what was to come of it? He lay on the ship, and the ship lay on the sea, a little world afloat on the water, moving as a planet moves through the heavens, but carrying her own heaven with her, attended by her own clouds, bearing her whither she would. Up into those clouds he lay gazing, up into the dome of the angels, drawing deeper and deeper breaths of gladness, too happy to think--when a foot came with a kick in the ribs, and a voice ordered him to get up: was he going to lie there till the frigate was paid off? Chapter LXIV. THE PANTHER. Clare scrambled to his feet, and surveyed the man who had thus roused him. He had a vague sense of having seen him before, but could not remember where. Feeling faint, and finding himself beside a gun, he leaned upon it. The sailor regarded him with an insolent look. “Wake up,” he said, “an’ come along to the cap’n. What’s the service a comin’ to, I should like to know, when a beggarly shaver like you has the cheek to stow hisself away on board one o’ his majesty’s frigates! Wouldn’ nothin’ less suit your highness than a berth on the Panther?” “Is that the name of the ship?” asked Clare. “Yes, that’s the name of the ship!” returned the man, mimicking him. “You’ll have the Panther, his mark, on the back o’ _you_ presently! Come along, I say, to the cap’n! We ha’ got to ask _him_, what’s to be done wi’ rascals as rob their masters, an’ then stow theirselves away on board his majesty’s ships!” “Take me to the captain,” said Clare. The man seemed for a moment to doubt whether there might not be some mistake: he had expected to see him cringe. But he took him by the collar behind, and pushed him along to the quarter-deck, where an elderly officer was pacing up and down alone.