The captain indulged in an afternoon nap, to be in readiness for a watchful night; and the fog grew thicker and heavier as the evening came on.

The great lantern was lighted early, and the wall of fog reflected the light back in a weird, ghostly way upon the boys, who sat in the bow, dreading to go down into the little cabin.

"I feel as if we were shut up in a tomb of fog," said Ralph dismally.

"Well, if 'misery likes company,' it may make you happier to know the other boys are in the fog too, over on the island," returned Ben.

"Yes, but they have solid ground under their feet, and are not likely to be run down as we are; besides, they'll have a jolly time in spite of the fog. I know I could if I were on shore and not sea-sick, and that fog-horn of Marcus's didn't sound so dismal. I wonder how many blasts he blows in a minute?"

"Let's go to bed; morning will come quicker," exclaimed Ben in desperation.

"If we could only sleep."

"Well, we did pretty well last night."

"Pretty well; but the cabin is so fishy and musty, and my stomach rolls over so many times in a minute, I can't sleep," complained Ralph.

"'Hark, from the tombs, a doleful sound,'" said Ben, and then laughed in spite of his discomfort. "We sit here and croak like a couple of ravens, and Marcus toots that everlasting horn; let's go below and try that," he continued.

Ralph arose and staggered to the cabin steps, said good-night to the captain and Marcus, and, followed by Ben, crept into his berth. Ben tried to sing one of the school glees to cheer himself and friend, and forget his sea-sickness.

"Oh, hush, Ben! That makes me as homesick as a cat. I tell you that little room of ours at school was an awful cosy place, after all. Just think of that bed. We used to call that hard."

"Yes, and that grate where we had a fire on cold nights."

"We used to rail at it and call it stuffy, but if we were only there now I'd feel like dancing."

Ben struck up another tune, and hummed it through, chorus and all, to try to keep from utter wretchedness.

Ralph was quiet till he finished; then he said,--

"Ben, Mr. Bernard is a good man. He had the right of it about that lying business. I hate myself for it."

"So you said before," answered Ben, beginning another air.

"I know it," interrupted Ralph, "I mean it more and more. I mean never to deceive any one again."

"Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore;' anyway never till you get into trouble again," said Ben.

"I don't care how great the trouble may be, I'll confess and be true. Do you know I tried saying last night what the captain told us he said. Somehow I never liked before to think the Lord was looking at me, but now I am glad he is, for he can see I really mean to do better."

"It's queer you feel that way. I don't see any use worrying over a little lie. I've told dozens of them, and I never felt bad about it. I feel uncomfortable enough now, but I reckon it's my stomach and not my mind. I say, let's go to sleep."

This was easier to say than do, and both boys tossed and rolled in misery with sea-sickness, home-sickness, and fear, until from sheer exhaustion they fell asleep.

The morning dawned foggy, and foggy the day ended. The next day was like this; and the boys were too sick and worried to taste a mouthful of food. The fog did not prevent the fishing, and the two men kept busy with their lines, or their work of dressing the fish, and had little time to devote to the boys, even if they had known what to do for them.

"I wish the two little land-lubbers were safe ashore," was the fervent remark uttered over and over again by the captain, as he and Marcus worked together.

"A storm is coming, and this fog will get blown higher than a kite," the boys heard the captain say.

"Yes, it feels like bad weather," was Marcus's answer, as he gave a wise glance around their foggy prison and blew a long blast on the big horn.

"Hear that, Ben?" asked Ralph.

"What? The horn? Yes, I hear it."

"No! Didn't you hear what Captain Dare said? We've got to have a storm after all. In this little vessel, too. It will go down, sure as the world," and Ralph grew paler than ever. Ben felt very much as his friend did, but said less.

"I hear another horn, captain."

"Yes!" said the captain, listening.

Marcus blew again long and loud; and again was answered from out in the fog. After a while the two vessels came within hailing distance, and Ralph, seized with a sudden longing, rushed up to the captain, and said eagerly,--

"O captain, it's a larger vessel than this! Don't you suppose they would take us aboard? If there is going to be a storm, I would rather be in a large vessel; this is such a little egg-shell."

"Egg-shell! not a bit of it. But I'd like nothing better than to get rid of you. I don't want passengers to look out for in a gale. My little smack has rode out many a storm, but I'd rather be alone with my one man."

"Oh, ask them! beg them!" urged Ralph, more and more excited.

"Tell them we've got money to pay with," added Ben a little more quietly.

The captain laughed, but gratified them by hailing the brig. "Here are two boys, sea-sick and scared; storm coming; no accommodation. Can you take them off my hands?"

"We are bound out," came the answer from the vessel, whose outlines were only dimly seen through the fog.

"Never mind where they are bound, tell him," said Ralph, pulling the captain's arm; "we don't care."

"We've no room for passengers," added the invisible speaker on the brig.

"Nor I neither," grumbled the captain of the smack. "I ought to have knowed better than to take 'em;" then aloud he added, "They'll die of fright o............