CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE VOYAGE.
When I awoke from the long, sound sleep which succeeded my last adventure, I had some difficulty in remembering where I was or how I had come there.
From my narrow berth I looked out upon the now empty cabin, and at length some misty and confused sense of my situation crept slowly over me.

I opened the little shutter beside me and looked out.

The bold headlands of the southern coast were frowning in sullen and dark masses about a couple of miles distant, and I perceived that we were going fast through the water, which was beautifully calm and still.

I now looked at my watch; it was past eight o'clock; and as it must evidently be evening, from the appearance of the sky, I felt that I had slept soundly for above twelve hours.
In the hurry of departure the cabin had not been set to rights, and there lay every species of lumber and luggage in all imaginable confusion.
Trunks, gun-cases, baskets of eggs, umbrellas, hampers of sea-store, cloaks, foraging-caps, maps, and sword-belts were scattered on every side,--while the _debris_ of a dinner, not over-remarkable for its propriety in table equipage, added to the ludicrous effect.

The heavy tramp of a foot overhead denoted the step of some one taking his short walk of exercise; while the rough voice of the skipper, as he gave the word to "Go about!" all convinced me that we were at last under way, and off to "the wars." The confusion our last evening on shore produced in my brain was such that every effort I made to remember anything about it only increased my difficulty, and I felt myself in a web so tangled and inextricable that all endeavor to escape free was impossible.