"But, Marline," he added the next moment, "there is one thing we must do presently.

I thought it best to leave it until sunset, before letting all hands turn in and have a good night's rest; and that is--" "To bury the steward," suggested the other.
"You've guessed rightly," said he; "so now, as I see the men taking in their clothes, which are by this time dry enough, I should fancy, from their exposure to the sun and wind, I think I'll give them a hail." This he did; and bye and bye, as the orb of day sank below the sea, the body of Harry, tied up in a piece of tarpaulin and with a heavy piece of chain-cable attached to the feet to make it sink, was committed to the deep, Captain Miles reading the impressive burial service, for those lost at sea, out of a prayer-book which he had recovered from the debris of the cabin and put in his pocket for the purpose.
This was our religious observance of the day.

It was a great contrast to the prayers on the poop which we had on the previous Sunday, when the ship, in all the glory of her fine proportions, with her lofty masts towering into the skies, was rolling on the calm bosom of the ocean, with her idle sails spread vainly to the breeze that would not come; now, she was but a battered and dismantled hulk.

The breeze we had wished for had come at last and waxed into a strong wind, which had ultimately developed into the hurricane that had done all the mischief-- the final result of which was the present burial of our drowned comrade! "Lads," cried Captain Miles when he had finished reading the service and the body had disappeared below the surface of the restless sea, "you can go and turn in now, all that like.

Mind, you have a good caulk until early to-morrow morning, when you'll have to rouse out sharp, all hands, for there be lots to be done!" We who were on the poop also went below soon afterwards to the cabin, where we found that Jake had cleared out all the debris and arranged the place so neatly that one would scarcely have imagined it had ever been in the state of confusion we noticed when first entering it.
Our bunks, too, were all arranged comfortably, with dry blankets spread in each; and I know that I, for one, was so glad to lie down on anything like a bed again after the two nights' exposure outside the ship, that I dropped off to sleep the moment I turned into my cot--the remark the captain had made about our being now thirteen in number, or a "baker's dozen," running in my head as a refrain to my dreams, although my rest was not in any way disturbed.