‘Ye’ll find the grass a soft bed,’ exclaimed the carpenter. ‘Thank you,’ I answered; ‘but since I am detained here against my will, allow me at least to choose my own mattress. Should you want me, you’ll find me about eighty paces yonder, where there’s some clean sand betwixt the bushes.’ I pointed to a spot a little distance past the curve of the lagoon. ‘It don’t signify to us where ye sleep, sir, exclaimed Lush; ‘we shan’t be wanting ye till the morning, by which time I hope you’ll have recollected the distance Capt’n Braine named. If you should feel a-dry in the night ye’ll find a kettle-full of rum-and-water alongside yon breaker that’s standing upright.’ ‘Thanks,’ said I; ‘good-night.’ There was a rumbling sleepy answer of ‘good-night’ from amongst them. The spot I had chosen gave me a clear view of the lagoon, and by consequence of the boat. There was no grass here, and the bushes were small and stunted, as though starved by the sandy character of the soil. Yet they furnished a dark surface, amid which I could crawl on my hands and knees without risk of being seen from the place occupied by the men. I sat down to wait and watch. Over the tops of the bushes alongside of me I could just distinguish the figures of the sailors when one or another of them rose apparently to obtain a drink from the kettle. After I had been seated some twenty minutes or so, I spied one of them walking towards the boat. His dark shape showed with tolerable distinctness when he emerged from the comparative obscurity of the herbage into the dull gleam of the stretch of coral foreshore. He entered the boat, and then I lost sight of him, for the water past him lay in a trembling sheet of gloom, and his outline was absorbed in it. From time to time I could hear the voices of the seamen conversing; but shortly after eleven all was silent amongst them, and then the indescribable hush of the great ocean night settled down upon the lonely rock. There was nothing in the stirring of the bushes to the wind, in the dim and delicate seething in the lagoon, in the hollower note of surf lightly tumbling at the back of the island, to vex this vast oppressive stillness. I thanked God that there was no moon; yet could have earnestly prayed for more wind and for a few clouds to obscure something of the small fine spangling of the atmosphere by the stars. I could see no light upon the barque; she lay in a little heap of faintness, what with her white sides and hanging white topsails, out in the gloom.