His sleep was changing from the heavy stupor of the drug into one that was at least on the borderland of the normal.

The tongue had lost its arid blackness and the mouth secretions had resumed action.
Satisfied as to his condition I returned to deck.
O'Keefe was there, looking like a spectre in the cotton sheet he had wrapped about him.

A deck table had been cleated down and one of the Tonga boys was setting it for our dinner.

Soon the very creditable larder of the Suwarna dressed the board, and O'Keefe, Da Costa, and I attacked it.

The night had grown close and oppressive.