Do you hear?
I've made a wonderful plan--with the captain's fortune! Dear old Kneebone." A small white heap across the deck began to rise.
"How often," complained a voice blurred with sleep, "how often must I tell ye--wake me, unless the ship--chart's all--Good God!" At the captain's cry, those who lay in darkness under the thatched roof began to mutter, to rise, and grope out into the trembling light, with sleepy cries of joy..