e mythical Tantalus.

At length I could endure the torment of dreaming no more, and started to
my feet, went to the helm, and got the raft once more before the wind.
I had scarcely done so and turned my glances astern for a moment, when,
"A sail! A sail!!" I screamed.

My two companions started to their feet and hurried to my side, eagerly
questioning me as to her whereabouts. I pointed her out to them. There
she was, about three miles directly astern, clearly visible in the light
of the young moon, which gleamed faintly upon her canvas; but--oh,
misery--she was close-hauled upon the starboard tack, dead to windward,
_and sailing away from us_. We shouted until not another sound would
our parched throats utter, but it was all of course of no avail; and we
were far too low in the water to attract the attention of even the
sharpest lookout in that feeble light; the ship swept steadily on and at
length passed out of sight below the horizon.

Then, as we sank down again in utter abandonment, how bitterly we
reproached ourselves and each other for not maintaining a lookout! Had
we done so, we should assuredly have made her out while still to
windward of her, and could have lowered our sail until she had
approached near enough to enable us to run down upon her. However, it
was too late now to remind each other of that; the mischief was done;
and the only thing that remained was to take care that there should be
no recurrence of it.

But I will dwell no longer upon the details of those endless days and
interminable nights of indescribable torture. Suffice it to say that I
endured two more days and nights of suffering, during which I was only
dimly cognisant of my surroundings; all my faculties were engaged in the
task of wrestling with and assisting my tortured frame to bear up
against the terrible anguish which consumed me; at the end of that time
exhausted nature could bear no more, and relief at length came with
unconsciousness.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

FAREWELL.

When at length I recovered my senses, I found myself in bed, in a small,
light, airy room lighted by a couple of windows, the jalousies of which
were so adjusted as to admit all the air possible, while at the same
time the direct rays of the sun were excluded. The bed upon which I was
lying was a tolerably roomy affair for one person, and the linen, though
somewhat plain in quality, was fresh and scrupulously clean. The only
other furniture in