that drave heavily. Revolving much grist in the mill of his mind, as

the sage Ulysses used to do, he found it essential to supply the motive

power bodily. One of Madame Fropot's loaves was very soon disposed of,

and a good draught of sound cider helped to renew his flagging energy.

Throughout that night he kept wide-awake, and managed to make fair

progress, steering, as well as he could judge, a little to the west of

north. But before sunrise the arrears of sleep increased at compound

interest, and he lowered his sail, and discharged a part of the heavy

sum scored against him. But when he awoke, and glanced around him with

eyes that resented scanty measure, even a sleepy glance sufficed to show

much more than he wished to see. Both sky and sea were overcast with

doubt, and alarm, and evil foreboding. A dim streak lay where the land

had been, and a white gleam quivered from the sunrise on the waves, as

if he were spreading water-lilies instead of scattering roses. As the

earth has its dew that foretells a bright day--whenever the dew is of

the proper sort, for three kinds are established now--so the sea has a

flit of bloom in the early morning (neither a colour, nor a sparkle, nor

a vapour) which indicates peace and content for the day. But now there

was no such fair token upon it, but a heavy and surly and treacherous

look, with lumps here and there; as a man who intends to abuse us

thrusts his tongue to get sharp in his cheek.

Scudamore saw that his poor old boat, scarcely sound enough for the men

of Gotham, was already complaining of the uncouth manners of the strange

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