The occupants of the cabin had sat long that night, talking of poor John Studwick's peaceful end, and then separated, feeling low-spirited and heavy, as if some fresh trouble were in store; but Bessy had said good-night to Meldon, with her hands resting lovingly in his, and she did not shrink away when he pressed his lips to her forehead. It had been arranged that the remains of the dead should be committed to the deep next day, and at last all had retired, after the captain and Dutch had heard the doctor's report of Laure's state, which caused them some uneasiness, for if he recovered they felt that much trouble was in store. But there was not the faintest suspicion of danger: trusty men were at the look-out and helm, and it had been arranged that Dutch was to take turns with the doctor and captain to visit the deck during the night, the doctor having his patient to watch. Then there was Rasp, too, who would be on the move several times during the night, and all promised well. And so the time wore on till Dutch, who had lain down in his clothes, rose and kissed his sleeping wife as she lay there peacefully dreaming. All was very still, and on reaching the deck he found the darkness intense, but, guided by the faint glow from the binnacle lantern, he went aft to where Lennie was softly crooning to himself some old ditty about "Coming back to Sairey in the good ship Jane." "Yes, sir, all right," said the sailor; "the breeze keeps nice and steady, only it's like sailing in a tar barrel, it's so awful black." Dutch went forward and found Sam Oakum leaning with his elbows on the bulwark, matched by his companion on the other side of the bowsprit gazing straight out ahead. "Right as nails, sir," said the old sailor, "only I was a thinking, being a man as never used it, if this here sea looked as black in the sunshine as it do now, what a fortune a man might make in bottles o' ink. You might go on filling 'em up, sir, for ever and ever, amen, and there'd be plenty left to sail the ships in all the same." "It is black, Sam," said Dutch, "and I often wonder that you sailors are not afraid of being run down, or of running into some other vessels." "There's plenty o' room," said Sam, "and as to being afraid, what's the use? We're too busy. 'Course there is a collision sometimes, but not often, thank goodness." "Keep a sharp look-out," said Dutch, turning to go. "Ay, ay, I'll keep a sharp look-out," said the old fellow. "Lord, it's ticklish work, sailing with all this silver aboard, and I shall be glad when we're safe in. How's the prisoner, sir?" "I'm going down to see," replied Dutch; and going to the hatch, he descended, to find Rasp sleeping soundly, and the lamp burned down to a dim light, that did not show the state of the Cuban's berth. Dutch shook the old diver roughly, and he started up muttering, while, as the former turned up the lamp, he started with surprise. "Where is--"