Here I found the cook and steward, Wymontoo, Hope Yarn, and the Dane; who, being all quiet, manageable fellows, and holding aloof from the rest since the captain's departure, had been ordered by the mate not to go below until sunrise.

They were lying under the lee of the bulwarks; two or three fast asleep, and the others smoking their pipes, and conversing.
To my surprise, Bembo was at the helm; but there being so few to stand there now, they told me, he had offered to take his turn with the rest, at the same time heading the watch; and to this, of course, they made no objection.
It was a fine, bright night; all moon and stars, and white crests of waves.

The breeze was light, but freshening; and close-hauled, poor little Jule, as if nothing had happened, was heading in for the land, which rose high and hazy in the distance.
After the day's uproar, the tranquillity of the scene was soothing, and I leaned over the side to enjoy it.
More than ever did I now lament my situation--but it was useless to repine, and I could not upbraid myself.

So at last, becoming drowsy, I made a bed with my jacket under the windlass, and tried to forget myself.
How long I lay there, I cannot tell; but as I rose, the first object that met my eye was Bembo at the helm; his dark figure slowly rising and falling with the ship's motion against the spangled heavens behind.

He seemed all impatience and expectation; standing at arm's length from the spokes, with one foot advanced, and his bare head thrust forward.