“By a sort of instinct I felt compelled to obey him, as it seemed, for a space longer; and making mechanically for’ard, I roused out the anchor-watch, who, as usual, were caulking it in the galley, and not a soul else on deck, though the heat was so great, that I wondered how it was possible for a living thing to sleep. After this I again went aft to the binnacle, glancing at the watch to see if the last bell had been struck, and looking over the side, wondering if the boat in which the chief had come off, had gone adrift. I then walked to the waist again, where, hardly knowing what I was doing, I stood looking up into the dark blue where the stars were burning, until, as I gazed, a feeling of the utter vanity of earthly hopes came over me, as I thought that these same stars which had shone so calmly on men’s deeds for thousands of years, would shine the same on my grave. It seemed to me, then, that not only the feelings involved in the fate of Ellen, but all the experience of the past, all the changes of time and clime, faded away into nothingness before those twinkling, far-away lights; and a something of peace which I had never known before, swiftly as the thought seemed to travel through space to the winking planets, slid into my soul on the slant of the star-beams. Then my ear caught the splurge of the tide—a faint air from the sea fanned my cheeks—and a low growl of thunder came rumbling up into the cove. I remember, too, to have noticed lights moving on shore, while a stir arose on the beach close to the landing, but in the mood I was in at the time, I paid little attention to this.