The swell had passed in the night, leaving a long, oily sea, dotted round the horizon with the sails of a dozen fishing-boats.

Between them lay little black specks, showing where the dories were out fishing.

The schooner, with a triangular riding-sail on the mainmast, played easily at anchor, and except for the man by the cabin-roof--"house" they call it--she was deserted.
"Mornin'-- Good afternoon, I should say.

You've nigh slep' the clock round, young feller," was the greeting.
"Mornin'," said Harvey.

He did not like being called "young feller"; and, as one rescued from drowning, expected sympathy.