Eh, wha-at ?" He seemed to have two pairs of hands and a head of cast-iron, for, not content with blowing through a big conch-shell, he must needs stand up to it, swaying with the sway of the flat-bottomed dory, and send a grinding, thuttering shriek through the fog.

How long this entertainment lasted, Harvey could not remember, for he lay back terrified at the sight of the smoking swells.

He fancied he heard a gun and a horn and shouting.

Something bigger than the dory, but quite as lively, loomed alongside.

Several voices talked at once; he was dropped into a dark, heaving hole, where men in oilskins gave him a hot drink and took off his clothes, and he fell asleep.
When he waked he listened for the first breakfast-bell on the steamer, wondering why his state-room had grown so small.