Everything a hundred yards away seemed to be so much solid darkness; but, on the other hand, the sea grew no rougher, and the wind sent the boat rapidly along.
It must have been about midnight that, as nearly everyone in the gig were plunged in a stupor-like sleep, the first-mate was steering, the boat gliding swiftly through the broken waves.

The major sat on one side and Mark on the other talking from time to time in a low voice.
A calm feeling of despair had settled down among them, and when they did speak it was about some indifferent matter, all shrinking from anything concerning their approaching fate, when Mark, who was stooping to pat the poor wounded dog at his feet, where he lay curled in company with shivering Jack, suddenly laid his hand upon Mr Gregory's arm.
"What's that ?" he said in a whisper.
"What?
I heard nothing," said the major.
"Silence!" cried the mate sternly; and he listened intently to a low roaring noise.
"Breakers!" he said suddenly.

"We are near land." "Land ?" cried Mark.
"Yes, my boy.

Oh, if it were day!" The mate changed the course of the boat directly so as to run off to the left, but at the end of five minutes he altered the course again.
"Breakers there too," he said.

"We are between them." "Well, then, quick!" said the major.