one arm thrust out,
with his knife pointed at them, as he slaked his thirst, while, with his
other round her waist, he supported her dying frame. The attitude was
that of fondness, while the deed was--murder. He appeared as if he were
caressing her, while her life's blood poured into his throat. At last
we all drew our knives; and the negro knew that he must resign his prey
or his life. He dropped the woman, and she fell, with her face forward,
at my feet. She was quite dead. And then--our hunger was relieved.

"`Three days passed away, and again we were mad for want of water,--when
we saw a vessel. We shouted, and shook hands, and threw out the oars,
and pulled as if we had never suffered. It was still calm, and, as we
approached the vessel, we threw what remained of the poor woman into the
sea; and the sharks finished what we had left. We agreed to say nothing
about her, for we were ashamed of ourselves.

"`Now, I did _not_ murder, but I did _not_ prevent it; and I have ever
since been haunted by this poor woman. I see her and the negro
constantly before me, and then I think of what passed, and I turn sick.
I feel that I ought to have saved her--she is always holding out her
arms to me, and I hear her faintly call "Charles"--then I read my
Bible--and she disappears, and I feel as if I were forgiven. Tell me,
what do you think, messmate?'

"`Why,' replied I, `sarcumstances will make us do what we other wise
would never think possible. I never was in such a predicament, and
therefore can't tell what people may be brought to do. But tell me,
messmate, what was the name of the poor woman?'

"`The husband's name was Ben Rivers.'

"`_Rivers_, did you say?' replied I, struck all of a heap.

"`Yes,' replied he; `that was her name; she was of this town. But never
mind the name--tell me what you think, messmate?'

"`Well,' says I (for I was quite bewildered), `I'll tell you what, old
fellow--as far as I'm consarned, you have my forgiveness, and now I must
wish you good bye--and I pray to God that we may never meet again.'

"`Stop a little,' said he; `don't leave me this way. Ah! I see how it
is--you think I'm a murderer.'

"`No I don't,' replied I; `not exactly--still, there'll be no harm in
your reading your Bible.'

"And so I got up, and walked out of the room--for you see, Jack,
although he mayn't have been so much to blame, still I didn't like to be
in company with a man who had eaten up _my own m