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Stephen, who still had leeway to make up in terms of sleep, in spite of his earlier naps, retreated. In the coach he found his trunk and other possessions neatly lined up along one of the bulkheads, and a well-made cot with one corner of the bedclothes turned down. He stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed, with the words I am home not quite formed as he fell asleep.
He slept through the change of the watch at eight bells, when the Roth rumbled with the tramping of the men’s feet and Jack, now off duty, knocked lightly on the hatch; slept through the change of the first dog watch to the second dog at four bells and the hull shook again; slept through the beginning of the first watch at eight bells and its end at eight bells again; and finally awoke fully refreshed at a time that his internal clock told identified as mid morning. He lay there for a bit, collecting himself and luxuriating on having no immediate responsibilities - not even to himself. Then he stretched, climbed out of the cot and stretched fully, and rummaged in his trunk for some clothing.
In the great cabin a short but polite note on a folded towel invited him to shower, and another note beside a small bell invited him to order breakfast. Jack had not appeared by the time completed both tasks, so Stephen hung the towel on a peg in the coach and set out to find his host, or perhaps start learning his way around the Roth.
At the hatch leading out of the suite he ran into a red-coated marine, standing sentry. “Am I allowed to leave,” he asked.
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