last strength we have in keeping ourselves afloat. I know
this same sea as well as I know my own country: and I am satisfied that
no deliverance is possible. There is not a spot of shore that we can
reach--not a point of rock big enough for a sea-mew; and the only
question for us is--whether we shall enter the fishes' maw alive or
dead."

"It is still possible," said the other--"that some human brother may
come to our assistance."

The other laughed again and said--"Human brother, eh? Methinks, my
friend, you should be rather young in this world of ours--and have no
great acquaintance with master _man_: I know the animal: and you may
take my word for it, that, on such a night as this, no soul will
venture out to sea. What man of sense indeed would hazard his life--for
a couple of ragamuffins like you and me? and suppose he would, who
knows but that it might be worse to fall into the hands of some _men of
sense_ than into the tender mercies of the sea? But I know a trick
worth two of that."

"Tell it then."

"Let us leave fooling: This cask, on which I sit, to my knowledge
contains rum; or arrack; which is as good. We can easily knock a hole
in it; then make ourselves happy and bouzy--fling our arms about each
other like brothers, and go down together to the bottom: after _that_,
I think we shall neither trouble nor be troubled; for we shall hardly
come up again, if we go down groggy."

"Shocking? why that's suicide!"

"Well! is your conscience so delicate and scrupulous? However as _you_
please: for any thing I care, and as you like it better, some dog of a
fish may do for us what we might as well have done for ourselves. But
now come aloft, my darling. I'll take my turn at swimming--as long as
the state of things will allow it; and wait for you below." They
changed situations.--But even upon the barrel, Bertram began to feel
his powers sinking. He clung as firmly as he could. But the storm grew
more and more terrific: and many times he felt faint in his wild
descents from the summit of some mounting wave into the yawning chasm
below: Nature is benign even in the midst of her terrors: and, when
horrors have been accumulated till man can bear no more, then his
sufferings are relieved for a time by insensibility. On awakening it is
true that the horrors will return; but the heart has gained fresh
strength to support them.

So it fared with Bertram, who continued to grow fainter and fainter;
until at length in th