“Mr. Cardly,” here interrupted Mr. Harberry, “how long does it take to count a million?”

“That depends,” said the school-master, “on the rapidity of the calculator; some calculators count faster than others.  An ordinary boy, counting two hundred a minute, would require nearly three days and a half to count a million.”

“Very good,” said Mr. Harberry; “please go on with your story, sir.”

“Of course,” said the marine, “there is a great difference between a boy and a Water-devil, and it is impossible for anybody to know how fast the latter can count, especially as he may be supposed to be used to it.  Well, I couldn’t stand it any longer on deck, and having nothing else to do, I turned in and went to sleep.”

“To sleep!  Went to sleep!” exclaimed Mrs. Fryker.  “I don’t see how you could have done that.”

“Ah, madam,” said the marine, “we soldiers of the sea are exposed to all sorts of dangers,—­combination dangers, you might call them,—­and in the course of time we get used to it; if we didn’t we couldn’t do our duty.

“As the ship had been in its present predicament for six or seven hours, and nothing had happened, there was no reason to suppose that things would not remain as they were for six or seven hours more, in which time I might get a good sleep, and be better prepared for what might come.  There’s nothing like a good meal and a good sleep as a preparation for danger.

“It was daylight when I awakened, and rapidly glancing about me, I saw that everything appeared to be all right.  Looking out of the port-hole, I could see that the vessel was still motionless.  I hurried on deck, and was greatly surprised to find nobody there—­no one on watch, no one at the wheel, no one anywhere.  I ran down into the fo’castle, which is the sailors’ quarters, but not a soul could I see.  I called, I whistled, I searched everywhere, but no one answered; I could find no one.  Then I dashed up on deck, and glared, around me.  Every boat was gone.

“Now I knew what had happened:  the cowardly rascals, from captain to cook, had deserted the ship in the night, and I had been left behind!

“For some minutes I stood motionless, wondering how men could be so unfeeling as to do such a thing.  I soon became convinced, from what I had seen of the crew, that they had not all gone off together, that there had been no concerted action.  A number of them had probably quietly lowered a boat and sneaked away; then another lot had gone off, hoping their mates would not hear them and therefore crowd into their boat.  And so they had all departed, not one boat-load thinking of anybody but themselves; or if they thought at all about others, quieting their consciences by supposing that there were enough boats on the vessel, and that the other people were as likely to get off as they were.