fainter, called from the reef, and the breeze increased, and the captain and his mate ordered the men the quicker aloft.
"Get up aloft there, you dogs! Get up! Get up! Get up!"
The familiar figure then caught sight of the dreamer (though he wasn't sure that he was dreaming even yet), and striding up to him ordered him aloft, and when he refused he dragged him up by the arm. The dreamer felt dizzy, for the sails were blowing in his face, and he thought he would let go, it was so like his first experience aloft; and he begged the familiar figure to let him go down, but the voice went on crying: "Up! Get up! Get up!"
Then the sail was pulled from his face, the wind blew through his hair, and he started up, catching hold of a stay (which turned out to be the bedpost), and letting the sail fall below, upon the deck, which in reality was the bedclothes slipping to the floor, and still the voice cried: "Get up! Get up!" And he recognized there the familiar face and form of Doctor Syn, and by him his companion. Sexton Mipps.
"Get up! Get up!" the parson was crying. "What a fellow to sleep you are! Like waking the dead! Upon my soul, it is, Mr. Mipps."
The captain rubbed his eyes again.
The sun was streaming through the window, which was open, and a good stiff breeze was blowing in from the sea.
