past. He thought,
too, of the strange meeting in mid-ocean, of the helpless state in which
Walford had remained since then, of his own vow, and all that it had
cost him, and as he reverently gathered the folds of canvas about the
lifeless form he felt comforted with the reflection that, though he had
failed, he had honestly done his best to keep that vow.

He did what he could to dispose the corpse decently and to prepare it
for its last long sleep beneath the waves; it was not much that he was
able to do, but he did what he could, "for Lucy's sake," as he kept on
muttering to himself; and when all was ready he turned to Tom. The poor
lad, utterly worn-out, had sunk down in the bottom of the boat, and,
with one arm supporting his head on the thwart, was fast asleep.

"Well, better so," thought George to himself; "he is enjoying at least a
temporary respite from his miseries; I will not disturb him;" and,
murmuring a short but earnest prayer, he raised the body in his arms,
lifted it over the side of the boat, and allowed it to pass gently away
from his grasp into the peaceful depths below. "God have mercy on his
soul," he murmured, and with clasped hands stood and watched the
shrouded form passing slowly out of sight for ever.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

MR BOWEN UNEXPECTEDLY REAPPEARS.

About an hour afterwards a fine breeze sprang up from the north-east,
and, putting the boat before it, George seated himself in the stern,
tiller in hand, and steered as near a southerly course as the boat,
without canvas, would go.

Very gloomy and despondent were his thoughts as he sat there, idly
watching the crisp-curling waves racing past. One of the trio had
passed away, and, without food or water, without mast or sail, with
their strength rapidly ebbing away, the situation of the remaining two
was hourly growing more critical. Had they not had the misfortune to
lose both mast and sail, George would have endeavoured to return to the
Isle of Pines; but to do so with the oars alone, now that they had
scarcely strength to use them, was impossible. There was no
alternative, therefore, but to wait patiently, and hope that they might
be picked up before it should be too late.

The boat drifted on hour after hour, the sun rose, the wave-crests
sparkled and glanced under his cheering rays, and still the horizon
remained sail-less. At last Tom, after stirring uneasily, awoke from
his stupor, glanced with eager, haggard eyes aroun