The day wore on.  A black cook brought us some soup and a bowl of farinha, which, as we were very hungry, we were glad enough to eat; and at night, Silva told us that we three might occupy the small deck cabin which was vacant.  We were glad enough to creep in there, and to forget our sorrows in sleep.  For some time we slept as soundly as people who have undergone a great deal of mental excitement generally sleep, though the realities of the past mixed strangely with the visions of the night. The most prominent was the picture of the sinking ship which we had seen go down; but in addition I beheld the agonised countenances of the murdered crew--some imploring mercy, others battling for life, and others yielding hopelessly to their fate.  Among them, to my greater horror, I thought I saw Mr Brand and Ben Yool.  They were bravely struggling in the hands of the ruffians, as I am sure they would have done.  Now one was up, now the other.  The pirates tried to force them overboard, but they always again clambered up the side of the vessel. Their boat was sunk beneath them; still they fought on, clutching hold of ropes and the chain-plates--never for a moment losing heart.  "That is the way to fight the battle of life against all enemies, spiritual and carnal," said a voice.  It was Cousin Silas who spoke.  Then the pirates made another desperate attack on him and Ben, and they were forced back into the deep ocean.