As the first ray penetrated the room, Tom Summers cautiously withdrew the arm which, during the night, he had kept drawn across his face, and looked round him. So far as he could make out, none of his companions were yet awake, and he availed himself of the opportunity to take a small looking-glass from his pocket, and propping it against the wall, he rapidly surveyed himself in it, pulling his red wig further down over his face, and settling the red beard, which had become shifted during the night. No stings of conscience, no terrifying reminiscences of the foul deed which he had committed, disturbed his rest; the strain upon his mental and bodily faculties had been so great that he had slept heavily and soundly, without a dream, without a movement. Even then, as he surveyed himself in the little pocket glass, he felt his eyelids closing, the elbow on which he leant giving way under him, and he felt more than half inclined to drop down upon his side, and slumber again. It must not be! He had set himself the task of rousing with daylight, and had fulfilled it, and he had too much to do to permit himself to relapse into slumber; so, after indulging in one luxurious but silent yawn and stretch, he pulled himself together by an effort, and staggered to his feet. One or two of the sleepers in his immediate neighbourhood, roused by the noise he made, cursed him roundly; but beyond this no notice was taken of his proceedings. Tom Summers stepped quickly down the creaking, rickety staircase, at the bottom of which he found the proprietor's 'deputy'--a shock-headed, blear-eyed old man, who acted as the porter and boots of the establishment; the daylight had not yet penetrated to this part of the house, and the old man held a flaring tallow candle in his hand, with which he surveyed the sailor. 'O, it's you, Jack, is it?' he said, in a thin piping voice. 'I thought it was some of the coves trying to come the double over me, but you paid your shot last night--I saw you.' 'Yes, yes, I paid last night,' repeated the sailor quickly. 'Open the door, please, and let me out.' 'Why, what's your hurry?' asked the old man, turning towards the hole from which he had just emerged, and looking up at the old Dutch clock which hung against the wall; 'it has only just gone five, and--' 'I've got to join my ship,' said Summers, 'and I must be off at once. Let me out, please.' The old man unlocked the door, and pulled it open by degrees. As soon as there was space enough for him to pass, Tom Summers slipped by without a word, and went limping up the court. The old man looked after him with bent brows, muttering in a tone of great disgust: 'That's polite, any way--got to join your ship, have you? I tell you what, my lad, I believe your ship is H.M. gunboat Crimp; and that as soon as you get on board of her, there will be a muster of all hands for punishment parade;' and grumbling thus, he returned to his den, closing the door after him.