ought to himself,
"as no man can live on this diet, without vegetables, and escape that
horrible complaint; and even if we do not get the scurvy, we must sink
at last from want of water."

He also felt the life he was compelled to lead far more than did the
others. They were companions to each, while he was, as it were, alone.
Often and often he went away by himself to the other end of the island
to consider by what means they could escape from their imprisonment. He
did not forget also to lift up his heart in prayer for guidance and
protection.

"God may find a way for us to escape, though I know not how it is to
be," he said often to himself.

Thus day after day, and week after week, passed away. Although they had
most carefully husbanded their water, it was now growing very scarce.
Not a drop of rain had fallen by which it could be replenished.

They had wisely covered up the casks with planks and boughs, so as to
keep them from the heat, and to diminish the evaporation as much as
possible. Still, in that climate, a good deal of water, they knew, must
thus be lost. From sunrise to sunset, their eyes were consequently cast
over the ocean, in the hopes of discovering a sail; but none appeared,
proving that Mr Collinson was right when he told them that few vessels
were likely to pass that way. Still hope was kept alive in their
bosoms.

As they saw the water decreasing, they now also began to look out
eagerly for signs of rain; but the sky remained blue as ever, undimmed
by a single cloud. Day after day the sun rose, and came burning down on
their heads, to sink again into the same unclouded horizon. Their tank
had long been formed. Bill especially made frequent visits to it, to
keep it clean. He was more sanguine than the rest as to the advantage
of the tank.

"I doubt, boy, in spite of all you say, if it will ever hold water, even
if the rain does come down," said old Grim, in his usual tone. "We are
all doomed men--that's my opinion. I may be wrong, of course; and I
hope so for your sake, Bill. It's hard for a young chap like you to
die; but for an old fellow like me, it's no odds to no one."

At length Mr Collinson, in spite of all his efforts to keep up, again
overcome by weakness, was unable to leave the hut. Bill sat by his
side, doing his utmost to cheer him. His favourite topic was the drive
from Kingston to Rock Hill Cottage, and the pleasant days he had spent
there.

"And, sir, I am