It was very depressing; but she comforted herself somewhat with the reflection that, on the whole, Mr.Meeson dead was not so bad as Mr.Meeson in the animated flesh.
Presently the night set in once more, and, worn out with all that she had gone through, Augusta said her prayers and went to sleep with little Dick locked fast in her arms.
Some hours afterwards she was awakened by loud and uproarious shouts, made up of snatches of drunken songs and that peculiar class of English that hovers ever round the lips of the British Tar.

Evidently Bill and Johnnie were raging drunk, and in this condition were taking the midnight air.
The shouting and swearing went reeling away towards the water's edge, and then, all of a sudden, they culminated in a fearful yell--after which came silence.
What could it mean?
wondered Augusta and whilst she was still wondering dropped off to sleep again..