Explore "John Holdsworth, Chief Mate" by W. Clark Russell on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In this way the boat drifted on until the dawn broke, when the wind fell.
Johnson lifted his head and looked about him; and first for the ship that had passed them in the night -- but she was nowhere visible; then at Holdsworth, whose delirium had yielded to sleep, and who slumbered with his feet on the thwart, his back arched like a bow, and his head between his knees; then at the widow, who drooped against the boat's side, her arm over the gunwale, and her hand in the water.