It was nearly one o’clock, and Morpheus, who generally deserts me on such occasions, stole upon me softly like a zephyr. I felt inclined to submit, and went below to lie down. Wrapped in deep repose, I seemed to quit this world of realities, and to wander in the regions of dream-land. This continued till seven in the morning, when a tremendous crash awoke me suddenly, and I perceived that we were dancing mountains high. The crash was caused by two glasses and a bottle of soda-water, belonging to my companion P. M. in the upper berth. They had been left upon the wash-hand stand; both glasses were smashed, and the bottle broken, with a tremendous report, making me fear that in the night we had, by mistake, approached too near to Sebastopol, and were being fired into by the batteries. Turning round, I perceived the supposed enemy on the cabin floor in a fearful state of dilapidation--the bottom of the soda-water bottle rolling to and fro, according to the will of the waves, which, it appeared, had risen to that pitch in an incredibly short space of time--a thing common enough in the Euxine, or Black Sea. “Good heavens!” exclaimed P. M., “where are we?” “Don’t be alarmed,” said I. “We are under fire; every man to his gun; so let us go up on deck and fight like Britons.” “The devil we are! Oh dear, I can’t fight, I am so sick.” “Then you must swim or sink.” In less than a minute he rushed from the cabin, and concealed himself under the large dinner-table. As I was dressed, I went upon deck. “At half-past five,” said the mate on duty, “it began to rain, and the wind suddenly changed. At seven o’clock, a gust of wind actually bent the sails across the yards, taking us dead aback; and in less than an hour, the sea rose to the state you see it in now.” The captain, who was giving his orders from the crossbridge, called out to me, laughing, “Well, Monsieur Soyer, where is your caique now? Are you ready for your breakfast?” Of course I was, though I could not boast of having much appetite. The remaining part of the passage was very rough. The _Ottawa_ rolled very much, having, if I recollect right, shot and shell for ballast. The contrast afforded by the sudden change from the calm of the previous day, no doubt caused us to feel its effects the more. At all events, we arrived in due time quite safe. An unexpected bad passage at all times makes everybody feel uneasy and low-spirited. The nearer I approached Balaklava, the more uneasy I felt. A kind of melancholy had come over me, and my feelings were so indescribable, that while we were entering the harbour of Balaklava, I was surprised to see the sun shining over that picturesque spot, and traffic going on as usual. Instead of a lugubrious veil hanging over the whole fleet, all was going on pretty much in the same manner as when I had left. Even nature seemed to have smiled upon the hills, valleys, and mountains, which were gayer than before.