It was almost as if he had been cast away on another planet.

A feeling of irrepressible, awful loneliness overpowered him.
"Well, Peter, we're here." It was a feeble voice, but it was a human one, the voice of one of his own kind, and, in that dreary wilderness of the ocean, it gave welcome relief as it struck upon his ear.

He looked down.

The slaver, returned to consciousness, had drawn himself into a sitting position and was looking out at the gray waters.
"I've a notion, Peter," he said, "that you've saved my life.

The last I remember was being engulfed in a very large and very angry ocean.