aven, and the sweet air in
my lungs once more. Bad off as I was, it was better than being anchored
to a sinking wreck by a dead man's grasp. I heard a voice near me that
night repeating the Latin prayers of the Romish Church for the departing
soul, but I couldn't see the speaker. The moon had gone under a cloud
again, but there was light enough for me to catch a glimpse of some
floating wreck on the crest of a wave above me; and then it came down
right on top of me,--a lot of rigging and a spar or two,--our topmast
and yard, which had gone over the side just before we foundered. I
climbed on to it, and found my prospects hugely improving,--especially
as clinging to the other end was the soldier left on board. As soon as I
could persuade him I was no spook or mermaid, he was almost as pleased
as I was, especially when he found I was the '_eretico_.' He was a
Swiss, it seemed, of King Ferdinand's regiments, going home on furlough,
and a Protestant, which was why he was left on board.

"Between us both we managed to get the spars into some sort of a
raft-shape, so that they would float us more comfortably; and there we
watched for the morning. When that came, the sea had smoothed itself,
and the wind died away considerably,--as it does in the Mediterranean at
short notice. We looked every way for the white lateen-sails of the
coasting and fishing craft, but in vain. It grew hotter and hotter as
the sun got higher, and hope and strength began to give out. I lay down
on the raft and slept,--how long I don't know, for my first
consciousness was my friend's cry of "A ship!" I looked up, and there,
sure enough, in the northeast, was a large ship, running before the
wind, right in our direction. I suspect poor Fritzeli must have been
asleep also, that he hadn't seen her before,--for she was barely a
couple of miles off. She was apparently from Genoa or Spezzia; but the
main thing was, that she was travelling our road, and that with a will.
I tore off my shirt-sleeve at the shoulder, and waved it, while Fritzeli
held up his red sash. But it was an anxious time. On she came,--a big
frigate. We could see a commodore's pendant flying at the main, and
almost hear the steady rush of water under her black bows. Did they see
us, or not? There was no telling; a man-of-war walks the sea's roads
without taking hats off to everybody that comes along. A quiet report
goes up to the officer of the deck, a long look with a glass, and the
whole