“’Twould not be amiss for thee,” replied Hildebrand. “Afore midnight, we may, if this breeze continue, be all confusion.” “Well, well, I will lay me down,” returned the young cavalier; “for though I be in no mind for sleep, my giddiness doth ill qualify me to sit up.” With these words, he rose from the table, and turned round to his berth. Planting his feet on the locker, and holding on by the panel above, he easily raised himself to his berth, and scrambled on to the bed within. Hildebrand disposed himself in the berth opposite, and Master Halyard, to use his own phrase, “hove-to” in a hammock, in the steerage, without the cabin-door. Although Don Rafaele had not retired to his berth with the intention of seeking repose, but had thrown himself down without undressing, he had not been long in a recumbent posture, reflecting on the various circumstances of his situation, before he was overtaken by sleep. It was, however, a restless slumber, broken by repeated starts, and was not calculated to refresh or invigorate him. Still he slept on; and an increased violence in the ship’s motion, and a variety of noises that prevailed on the deck above, with other adverse incidents, alike failed to awake him. It was quite dark when he did awake. The ship was pitching a little; and this, with the darkness that prevailed, and the solemn silence, broken only by a solitary footfall overhead, pacing the quarter-deck, or an occasional creaking of the mainmast, depressed him severely. He was soon to have more serious cause for dejection. While he was musing what course he should pursue, and whether it would be better, as the night had now set in, to remain in his berth, or to take a turn on the deck, the silence that prevailed was suddenly interrupted by the clamour of several voices. Footsteps were then heard passing over the deck, and, after a brief pause, the rolling of a drum broke on his ear. The stirring call to arms rolled through the ship like thunder. Scarcely had its echoing voice been awakened, when sounds of stir and bustle, including all manner of noises, rose from every part of the ship. In a few minutes, however, both the rolling of the drum, and the din that it created, and which was even more spirit-stirring, died away; and except for the passage of an occasional footstep over the deck, or the sound of a voice, raised somewhat above the ordinary pitch, all was quiet.