Barnaby divided the crew--namely, himself, John Nuthall, and me--into three watches of eight hours each, of which each man kept two at a stretch. Thus, beginning the day at noon, which was the only time we knew for certain, Barnaby would himself (but this was after the first two days) lie down and sleep till sunset or a little later. Then John Nuthall lay down and took his turn of sleep till Barnaby thought it was two o'clock in the morning, when he woke him and I took his place. But for the first day or two Barnaby slept not at all, and the whole of the voyage he slept as a good watch-dog sleeps--namely, with one eye open. At sunset he gave out another pannikin of cold water to each of us, a ration of bread and cheese, and a dram of wine. Then he commanded John Nuthall to lie down and sleep, while I took the tiller and he himself held the ropes. Then the night fell once more upon us. Presently, while we sat there in silence, Alice rose up from her seat and came aft and sat down beside me. 'Humphrey,' she whispered, 'think you that he is truly dead?' She was speaking, not of Robin, but of the Master. 'I know not, my dear.' 'I can think of nothing but of that man's sudden end, and of what may happen to us. Say something to comfort me, Humphrey! You always had some good word to say, like manna for refreshment. My soul is low in the dust--I cannot even pray.' 'Why, my dear?' What could I say? ''Tis true that the man was struck down, and that suddenly. And yet----' 'To think that my brother--that Barnaby--should have killed him!' 'Why,' said Barnaby, 'if some one had to kill him, why not I as well as another? What odds who killed him?' 'Oh!' she said, 'that a man should be called away at such a moment, when his brain was reeling with wine and wicked thoughts!'