tigued, and worn out:
the more so when, like Costal, he carries a knife between his teeth--
thus impeding his free respiration. But the ex-pearl-diver did not
think of parting with the weapon--his only resource, in case of being
attacked by the sharks--and still keeping his lips closed upon it, he
swam on.

After a time, he felt his heart beating violently against his ribs. He
attributed this circumstance less to fear than to the efforts he was
making; and, taking the knife from his mouth, he carried it in one of
his hands.

The pulsations of his heart were not the less rapid: for it may be
acknowledged, without much shame to him, that Costal now really felt
fear. Moreover, swimming with one hand closed, it was necessary for him
to strike more rapidly with the other.

The precaution of holding his knife ready in hand, was not likely to
prove an idle one. The two sharks appeared gradually converging upon
the line which the swimmer must take, if he continued to swim directly
onward.

On observing this convergence of his silent and persevering pursuers,
Costal suddenly obliqued to the right. The sharks imitated his movement
on the instant, and swam on each side of him as before!

For a few minutes--long and fearful minutes--he was forced to keep on in
this new direction. He began to fancy he was swimming out of the way he
should have taken; and was about to turn once more to the left, when an
object came before his eyes that prompted him to utter an ejaculation of
joy.

In spite of himself, he had been guided into the right direction, by the
very enemies from whom he was endeavouring to escape; and it was the
sight of the barges that had drawn from him the joyful exclamation.

The moment after, he uttered a louder cry, hailing the boats.

He had the satisfaction of hearing a response; but as no one saw him
through the darkness, it was necessary for him to continue swimming
onwards.

By this time the two sharks had closed on each side, and were gliding
along so near, that only a narrow way was open between them. Costal
felt that he had not sufficient strength to make a detour; and the only
course left him, was to swim straight for the nearest boat. He kept on
therefore, his heart beating against his ribs, and with his knife firmly
held in his grasp--ready to bury the weapon in the throat of the first
that should assail him. With the last efforts of his strength he lunged
out right and left, by voice and