the strain
my muscles had so long endured, I could not have stood upright.

Several cross-pieces secured the top of the cask to the post. I shoved
my head through them, and could now look down on the wild and raging
waters with which I was surrounded. Still I dare not quit my hold of
the post, fancying that if I pressed on one side of the cask or the
other, it might give way. Not that there was the slightest chance of
that in reality. I did not long contemplate the fearful scene, but
overcome by what I had gone through, I sank down to the bottom of the
cask, and, wet and cold as I was, fell into a troubled slumber.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

In the beacon--The storm continues--The tide turns--I again seek for
food--I meet with another accident--Brighter weather--A sail in
sight--My hopes and fears--My signal--My rescue--A voice from the
deep--Three old friends meet again--On board the "Falcon"--The good
captain--Sydney harbour, and why I did not go ashore there--The
homeward voyage--Mark and I learn navigation--My reception at
Liverpool--Sad, sad news--My journey to Sandgate--I enter Mr
Butterfield's office, and have had no cause to regret doing so.

I awoke to find the storm still raging around me; but as I opened my
eyes I was sensible that a faint light came in from the top of the cask.
I was cramped with the uncomfortable position in which I had been
sleeping. When I looked out over the edge of the cask, though the seas
were tossing as wildly as before, I perceived that the rock below me was
once more uncovered, owing, as I knew, to the tide having ebbed. At
first I thought of descending; then I recollected that the waters might
again rise to their former level, and I feared that I might not have
strength to regain my sheltering-place. I therefore remained where I
was. I shortly began to feel the pangs of hunger and thirst. I eagerly
felt in my pocket for some biscuit, forgetting that I had consumed the
last the night before. I found a few crumbs, and with difficulty got
them down, having no water to moisten my dry mouth. Still, the wet
state of my clothes prevented me from suffering so much from thirst as I
should otherwise have done.

The storm, I knew, would not last for ever. Should it continue much
longer, however, I might succumb before I could possibly be relieved;
but having been hitherto so mercifully preserved, I did not despair.
Feeling weary of standing, I again crouched down