fully sore about the back; and, awaking the child, took him out to
the stream of water and washed him and herself as well as she could. It
was very cold outside; so cold that the child cried, and the rain clouds
were coming up fast, so she hurried back to the hut, and, together with
Dick, made her breakfast off some biscuit and some roast penguin's
eggs, which were not at all bad eating. She was indeed, quite weak with
hunger, having swallowed no food for many hours, and felt
proportionately better after it.

Then she turned to examine the condition of Mr. Meeson. The will had been
executed none too soon, for it was evident to her that he was in a very
bad way indeed. His face was sunken and hectic with fever, his teeth were
chattering, and his talk, though he was now awake, was quite incoherent.
She tried to get him to take some food; but he would swallow nothing but
water. Having done all that she could for him, she went out to see the
sailors, and met them coming down from the flagstaff. They had evidently
been, though not to any great extent, at the rum cask again, for Bill
looked sheepish and shaky, while the ill-favored Johnnie was more sulky
than ever. She gazed at them reproachfully, and then asked them to
collect some more penguin's eggs, which Johnnie refused point-blank to
do, saying that he wasn't going to collect eggs for landlubbers to eat;
she might collect eggs for herself. Bill, however, started on the errand,
and in about an hour's time returned, just as the rain set in in good
earnest, bearing six or seven dozen fresh eggs tied up in his coat.

Augusta, with the child by her, sat in the miserable hut attending to Mr.
Meeson; while outside the pitiless rain poured down in a steady unceasing
sheet of water that came through the wretched roof in streams. She did
her best to keep the dying man dry, but it proved to be almost an
impossibility; for even when she succeeded in preventing the wet from
falling on him from above, it got underneath him from the reeking floor,
while the heavy damp of the air gathered on his garments till they were
quite sodden.

As the hours went on his consciousness came back to him, and with it his
terror for the end and his remorse for his past life, for alas! the
millions he had amassed could not avail him now.

"I am going to die!" he groaned. "I am going to die, and I've been a bad
man: I've been the head of a publishing company all my life!"

Augusta gently pointed out