"He is going to bed.

There's no news." And the young man eulogized Mediterranean navigation.

At the outbreak of the war, he had been on another vessel going from London to New York and he recalled the unquiet nights, the days of anxious vigilance, searching the sea and the atmosphere, fearing from one moment to another the appearance of a periscope upon the waters, or the electric warning of a steamer torpedoed by the submarine.

On this sea, one could live as tranquilly as in times of peace.
Ferragut suspected that the poor operator was very anxious to enjoy the delights of such tranquillity.

His companion in service was snoring in a nearby cabin and he was anxious to imitate him, putting his head down on the table of the apparatus....