eed. Suddenly I felt the earing in my hand give
way, and before I could grasp at the yard to save myself I lost my
balance, and to my horror found myself falling into the seething ocean
raging beneath me. A strange, hideous, mocking strain of laughter
sounded in my ears as I fell, and after that I knew no more till I
discovered that I was struggling in the foaming waters.

I had gone down once, but had quickly come up again. I threw myself on
my back till I had somewhat recovered my senses, and then turned myself
round and kept treading the water while I looked out to see how far I
was from the ship.

Away she flew, close-hauled though, with the foam dancing round her, and
already at some distance. "And is this to be my fate?" I thought; "to
die thus a victim to the foul revenge of that man?"

I resolved to struggle for life. I looked round me on every side. The
Indiamen were scattered far and wide, none of them were coming up on our
track. Still I swam on, but I felt how hopeless was the struggle.

Just then my eye fell on a grating, floating not five fathoms from me,
and which had evidently been thrown to me by some one on board, when I
was seen to fall from aloft. I exerted all my strength, and at length
reached it. The time appeared to be very long. It is impossible, on
such occasions, to measure it. Moments appeared minutes--minutes hours.
I threw myself on the grating in a position to avoid being washed off
it or thrown under it; but it required no slight exertion to hold on.
As the dark seas came rolling up, and breaking, with a loud, crashing
sound, above my head, I felt as if they must inevitably overwhelm me.
Still I did not give up hope.

Unhappy as I had thought myself, I desired life that I might return home
once more and ascertain the fate of my wife. I prayed that for this
object I might be preserved; that we might once more be united, and once
again be happy on earth. Even at that moment, surrounded by the boiling
seas, with my ship flying fast away from me, I pictured, with all the
vividness of reality, the unspeakable joy of once again being restored
to her. I remembered the numberless dangers to which I had been
exposed, and the merciful way in which I had been preserved from them.

Not for an instant did I think of Iffley. I forgot that he had been the
cause of my present position, and thus I was prevented from harbouring
any feeling of revenge against him.

As I was saying, I