There was no sign of land in the west.

The sky was now clear and bright on all sides, but there was nothing to break the line where it met the sea.

Before the fading of the light on the previous evening, I had easily made out the well-known outlines of the Cheviots on one hand and of Says Law on the other--now there was not a vestige of either.

I knew from that fact that I had somehow drifted further and further away from the coast.

There was accordingly nothing to do but wait the chance of being sighted and picked up, and I set to work, as well as I could on my tiny raft, to chafe my limbs and get some warmth into my body.