Micah Clarke

When I opened my eyes I had some ado to recall where I was, but on sitting up it was brought home to me by my head striking the low ceiling with a sharp rap. On the other side of the cabin Silas Bolitho was stretched at full length with a red woolen nightcap upon his head, fast asleep and snoring. In the center of the cabin hung a swing-table, much worn, and stained all over with the marks of countless glasses and pannikins. A wooden bench, screwed to the floor, completed the furniture, with the exception of a stand of muskets along one side. Above and below the berths in which we lay were rows of lockers, in which, doubtless, some of the more choice laces and silks were stowed. The vessel was rising and falling with a gentle motion, but from the flapping of canvas I judged that there was little wind. Slipping quietly from my couch, so as not to wake the mate, I stole upon deck.

We were, I found, not only becalmed, but hemmed in by a dense fog-bank which rolled in thick, choking wreaths all round us, and hid the very water beneath us. We might have been a ship of the air riding upon a white cloud-bank. Now and anon a little puff of breeze caught the foresail and bellied it out for a moment, only to let it flap back against the mast, limp and slack, once more. A sunbeam would at times break through the dense cloud, and would spangle the dead grey wall with a streak of rainbow color, but the haze would gather in again and shut off the bright invader. Covenant was staring right and left with great questioning eyes. The crew were gathered along the bulwarks and smoking their pipes while they peered out into the dense fog.

"God den, Captain," said Dicon, touching his fur cap. "We have had a rare run while the breeze lasted, and the mate reckoned before he turned in that we were not many miles from Bristol town."

"In that case, my good fellow," I answered, "ye can set me ashore, for I have not far to go."

"We must e'en wait till the fog lifts," said Long John. "There's only one place along here, d'ye see, where we can land cargoes unquestioned. When it clears we shall turn her head for it, but until we can take our bearings it is anxious work wi' the sands under our lee."

"Keep a look-out there, Tom Baldock!" cried Dicon to a man in the bows. "We are in the track of every Bristol ship, and though there's so little wind, a high-sparred craft might catch a breeze which we miss."

"Sh!" said Long John suddenly, holding up his hand in warning. "Sh!"