te,
that we might die together. Slowly I raised the glass, and the horizon was
swept with deliberation. Nothing appeared. I had shut the glass, and was
about to sling it, when my eye caught the appearance of something floating
on the surface of the ocean, within a mile of the ship; well to leeward,
and ahead. I had overlooked it, in consequence of ranging above it with
the glass, in the desire to sweep the horizon. I could not be mistaken: it
was the wreck. In a moment the glass was levelled, and I assured myself of
the fact. The top was plainly visible, floating quite high above the
surface, and portions of the yards and masts were occasionally seen, as
the undulations of the ocean left them bare. I saw an object, lying
motionless across the top-rim, which I supposed to be Marble. He was
either dead or asleep.

What a revulsion of feeling came over me at this sight! A minute before,
and I was completely isolated; cut off from the rest of my species, and
resigned to a fate that seemed to command my quitting this state of being,
without further communion with mankind. Everything was changed. Here was
the companion of so many former dangers, the man who had taught me my
profession, one that I can truly say I loved, quite near me, and possibly
dying for the want of that aid which I might render! I was on deck in the
twinkling of an eye; the sheets were eased off, and the helm put up.
Obedient to my wishes, the ship fell off, and I soon got a glimpse, from
the spot where I stood, at the wheel, of the wreck a little clear of the
weather cat-head. By this time, the wind was so light, and the ship had
got to be so deep in the water, that the motion of the last was very slow.
Even with the helm up, it scarce equalled half a knot; I began to fear I
should not be able to reach my goal, after all!

There were, now, intervals of dead calm; then the air would return in
little puffs, urging the great mass heavily onward. I whistled, I prayed,
I called aloud for wind; in short, I adopted all the expedients known,
from that of the most vulgar nautical superstition, up to profound
petitions to the Father of Mercies. I presume all this brought no change,
though the passage of time did. About half an hour before the sun dipped
into the ocean, the ship was within a hundred yards of the wreck. This I
could ascertain by stolen glances, for the direction I was now compelled
to steer, placed the forward part of the ship between me and my objec