hed, cracked
with eight days' thirst; their bodies starved; and here was their last
chance gliding relentlessly from them; they would not be alive when the
next sun rose. For a day or two past the men had lost their voices, but
now Captain Rounceville whispered, "Let us pray." The Portuguese patted
him on the shoulder in sign of deep approval. All knelt at the base of
the oar that was waving the signal-coat aloft, and bowed their heads. The
sea was tossing; the sun rested, a red, rayless disk, on the sea-line in
the west. When the men presently raised their heads they would have
roared a hallelujah if they had had a voice--the ship's sails lay
wrinkled and flapping against her masts--she was going about! Here was
rescue at last, and in the very last instant of time that was left for
it. No, not rescue yet--only the imminent prospect of it. The red disk
sank under the sea, and darkness blotted out the ship. By and by came a
pleasant sound-oars moving in a boat's rowlocks. Nearer it came, and
nearer-within thirty steps, but nothing visible. Then a deep voice:
"Hol-lo!" The castaways could not answer; their swollen tongues refused
voice. The boat skirted round and round the raft, started away--the
agony of it!--returned, rested the oars, close at hand, listening, no
doubt. The deep voice again: "Hol-lo! Where are ye, shipmates?" Captain
Rounceville whispered to his men, saying: "Whisper your best, boys! now
--all at once!" So they sent out an eightfold whisper in hoarse concert:
"Here!", There was life in it if it succeeded; death if it failed. After
that supreme moment Captain Rounceville was conscious of nothing until he
came to himself on board the saving ship. Said the Reverend, concluding:

"There was one little moment of time in which that raft could be visible
from that ship, and only one. If that one little fleeting moment had
passed unfruitful, those men's doom was sealed. As close as that does
God shave events foreordained from the beginning of the world. When the
sun reached the water's edge that day, the captain of that ship was
sitting on deck reading his prayer-book. The book fell; he stooped to
pick it up, and happened to glance at the sun. In that instant that
far-off raft appeared for a second against the red disk, its needlelike
oar and diminutive signal cut sharp and black against the bright surface,
and in the next instant was thrust away into the dusk again. But that
ship, that ca