line was quietly
provided from some of the small cordage that still remained about the
masts. A piece of leather, torn from a spar, answered for the bait; and
the lure was thrown. Extreme hunger seemed to engross the voracious
animals, who darted at the imaginary prey with the rapidity of lightning.
The shock was so sudden and violent, that the hapless mariner was drawn
from his slippery and precarious footing, into the sea. The whole passed
with a frightful and alarming rapidity. A common cry of horror was heard,
and the last despairing glance of the fallen man was witnessed. The
mutilated body floated for an instant in its blood, with the look of agony
and terror still imprinted on the conscious countenance. At the next
moment, it had become food for the monsters of the sea.

All had passed away, but the deep dye on the surface of the ocean. The
gorged fish disappeared; but the dark spot remained near the immovable
raft, as if placed there to warn the survivors of their fate.

"This is horrible!" said Ludlow.

"A sail!" shouted the Skimmer, whose voice and tone, breaking in on that
moment of intense horror and apprehension, sounded like a cry from the
heavens. "My gallant brigantine!"

"God grant she come with better fortune than those who have so lately left
us!"

"God grant it, truly! If this hope fail, there is none left. Few pass
here, and we have had sufficient proof that our top-gallants are not so
lofty as to catch every eye."

All attention was now bestowed on the white speck which was visible on the
margin of the ocean, and which the 'Skimmer of the Seas' confidently
pronounced to be the Water-Witch. None but a seaman could have felt this
certainty; for, seen from the low raft, there was little else to be
distinguished but the heads of the upper sails. The direction too was
unfavorable, as it was to leeward; but both Ludlow and the free-trader
assured their companions, that the vessel was endeavoring to beat in with
the land.

The two hours that succeeded lingered like days of misery. So much
depended on a variety of events, that every circumstance was noted by the
seamen of the party, with an interest bordering on agony. A failure of the
wind might compel the vessel to remain stationary, and then both
brigantine and raft would be at the mercy of the uncertain currents of the
ocean; a change of wind might cause a change of course, and render a
meeting impossible; an increase of the breeze might cause