em.
Instead of trying to be reconciled to his enemy, he had treated him
with haughtiness and contempt. In vain he endeavoured to pray,--
confusion of mind, brought on by fever, prevented him from collecting
his thoughts, and all sorts of fearful phantoms passed before him.
Again he was on the deck of the _Marie_, surrounded by the dead and
dying, when he saw as clearly as if they had been present, the distorted
features of the privateersmen struck down by the cutlasses of his crew,
and the reports of pistols and clash of steel sounded in his ears. Then
once more the tempest was raging, and the sounds of the seas dashing
over the ship, the wind howling amid the rigging, the sails flapping
wildly from the yards, the creaking timbers, the cries of the crew, were
again heard. He attempted to shout to issue his orders, but his voice
failed him; not a word could he utter. Sometimes he fancied that he
could hear his own voice, at others that it was Nep's loud howls which
broke the silence. Another night passed away, and a second morning
came. Only a person who had played no tricks with his constitution
could have endured what the young lord passed through.

He was fully aware at times that he was dying, that unless assistance
came he could not survive many hours. He stretched out his hand towards
the clam-shell which had contained his stock of water, but it was empty.
His tongue felt like a hot burning coal in his mouth. He closed his
eyes from very weakness. How long he had thus remained he could not
tell, when he was aware that Neptune was licking his hands and face. He
had just sense enough left to know that it was his dog, though by what
means the animal had got free he could not divine. He heard the
faithful creature moan and whine round him and lie down by his side.
The little strength he had was rapidly decreasing, and he soon lost all
consciousness.

In a _very_ different position was Richard Hargrave. With wholesome
food and abundance of employment, he retained his health and strength,
and his mind had no time to dwell on his forlorn condition. At break of
day he rose from his comfortable bed, and kneeling down, said his
prayers as he had been wont to do at his mother's knees when a child.
He then got up, and considered to what he had best first turn his hand.

Not far off from the hut was the log which he was anxious to shape into
a canoe, and on his bench in the verandah lay his crossbow, nearly
fini