Then the moon began to sink lower, and the sky to grow of a darker slaty colour, while the regular beat of the men's oars sounded distant--then very softly--and then ceased altogether, or so it appeared to Mark Vandean, who suddenly opened his eyes with a start, and gazed wonderingly about him at the sunlit sea, now all orange and gold. "Have I been to sleep, sir?" he cried apologetically. "Yes, my lad; sound asleep for hours." "And the ship, sir--can you see the _Nautilus_?" "No, my lad," said the lieutenant, in a voice which he tried to make cheerful, but whose tones spoke of the deep despondency in his breast. "She is not in sight yet." The midshipman glanced sharply at the heavy, saddened countenances of the men, and read there a reflection of his own thoughts, that they were far-away on the wide ocean in an open boat without food or water, exhausted by a long night's rowing, and in an hour the torrid sun would be beating down upon their heads. Hunger--thirst--heat--all three to fight; but there was a worse enemy still--despair, as a torrent of recollections flashed through the lad's brain, and he felt that unless the _Nautilus_ hove in sight, their position was less to be envied than that of the poor negro lying dead beneath the flat which hid his face from their sight. CHAPTER SEVEN. A TERRIBLE TASK. Hunger at first--a sharp, grinding sensation of hunger attacked Mark Vandean; but as the sun rose higher this was forgotten in the intense thirst. For the heat rapidly grew scorching, and then, as Mark thought, burning, and saving the flag in the stern-sheets there was not a scrap of anything that could be used for an awning. Every eye was strained westward in search of the returning _Nautilus_, but in the clear morning light there was no sign of her; and as the sun rose higher, the distance became obscured by a hot haze, which grew more dense as the hours went on, till it was impossible to see a mile in any direction, while this thickening of the atmosphere had the effect of heightening the power of the rays of the sun. "We shall never be able to see the ship, Mr Russell," said Mark towards mid-day, as they lay there parched beyond endurance, rising slowly and falling upon the smooth Atlantic swell. "Do you think they will fire again?" "Sure to, my lad," was the reply. "There, I'm glad you have spoken. This silence was getting unbearable." "I couldn't talk before," replied Mark; "it all seemed to be so horrible lying here in this scorching heat, and I was so thirsty and faint I felt as if I couldn't keep up." "We all felt the same, my lad, but we must bear it till help comes. There, you are my lieutenant now, and we must have a consultation as to what is best to be done."