et with the old instinct of life he lifted
himself upon his toes. He raised his arms as far as the chains gave him
play and caught the chains themselves and strove to pull, to lift, at
last only to hold himself up, a rigid, awful figure. He gained an inch
or two, but his fetters held him down. As the water supported him he
found little difficulty in maintaining the position for a space. But he
could go no higher--if the water rose an inch more that would be the
end. He could breathe only between the breaking waves now.

The body of the black was swung against him again and again; the head of
young Teach kissed him upon the cheek; and still the water seemed to
rise, and rise, and rise. He was a dead man like the other two, indeed
he prayed to die, and yet in fear he clung to the chains and held on.
Each moment he fancied would be his last. But he could not let go. Oh,
God! how he prayed for a storm; that one fierce wave might batter him to
pieces; but the waters were never more calm than on that long, still
night, the sea never more peaceful than in those awful hours.

By and by the waters fell. He could not believe it at first. He still
hung suspended and waited with bated breath. Was he deceived? No, the
waters were surely falling. The seconds seemed minutes to him, the
minutes, hours. At last he gained assurance. There was no doubt but that
the tide was going down. The waves had risen far, but he had been lifted
above them; now they were falling, falling! Yes, and they were bearing
away that accursed body and that ghastly head. He was alive still, saved
for the time being. The highest waves only touched his breast now.
Lower--lower--they moved away. Reluctantly they lingered; but they fell,
they fell.

To drown? That was not the judgment of God for him then. What would it
be? His head fell forward on his breast--he had fainted in the sudden
relief of his undesired salvation.

Long time he hung there and still the tide ebbed away, carrying with it
all that was left of the only two who had loved him. He was alone now,
surely, save for that watcher in the bushes. After a while consciousness
returned to him again, and after the first swift sense of relief there
came to him a deeper terror, for he had gone through the horror and
anguish of death and had not died. He was alive still, but as helpless
as before.

What had the Power he had mocked designed for his end? Was he to watch
that ghastly tide come in again and ri