I said once before that it would happen some time." About an hour later Vandover dropped off to sleep, in spite of the cold, the wet, and the torment in his thumb.

He dozed and woke, and dozed again all through the morning.

About noon he was awakened by a more violent rolling of the boat, the sound of voices, and a stir among the other passengers.
It was still raining; the boat was no longer cutting the waves with her nose, but was being rowed seaward flank on; a sailor stood in the bow holding a coil of rope.

Close in and seen over the tops of the waves were the shaking and slatting sails of a pilot-boat, lying to.

One of the sails bore an enormous number six.
Vandover slept all that day and the night following, rolled in hot blankets.