at with this weight to the ropes they would probably be enabled to
hold the raft against the current for one night, when they would be able
the next day to gain shore; but this was refused--they would not risk
their money. No, no--fools! they would sooner part with their lives by
the most miserable of all deaths. Again and again was this proposed to
them by Philip and Krantz, but without success.

In the mean time Amine had kept up her courage and her spirits, proving
to Philip a valuable adviser and a comforter in his misfortunes. "Cheer
up, Philip," would she say; "we shall yet build our cottage under the
shade of those cocoa-nut trees, and pass a portion, if not the remainder
of our lives in peace; for who indeed is there who would think to find
us in these desolate and untrodden regions?"

Schriften was quiet and well-behaved; talked much with Amine, but with
nobody else. Indeed, he appeared to have a stronger feeling in favour
of Amine than he had ever shown before. He watched over her and
attended her; and Amine would often look up after being silent and
perceive Schriften's face wear an air of pity and melancholy which she
had believed it impossible that he could have exhibited.

Another day passed; again they neared the land, and again did the breeze
die away, and they were swept back by the current. The men now arose,
and in spite of the endeavours of Philip and Krantz, they rolled into
the sea all the provisions and stores, everything but one cask of
spirits and the remaining stock of water; they then sat down at the
upper end of the raft with gloomy, threatening looks and in close
consultation.

Another night closed in; Philip was full of anxiety. Again he urged
them to anchor with their money, but in vain; they ordered him away, and
he returned to the after part of the raft, upon which Amine's secure
retreat had been erected; he leant on it in deep thought and melancholy,
for he imagined that Amine was asleep.

"What disturbs you, Philip?"

"What disturbs me? The avarice and folly of these men. They will die,
rather than risk their hateful money. They have the means of saving
themselves and us, and they will not. There is weight enough in bullion
on the fore part of the raft to hold a dozen floating masses such as
this, yet they will not risk it. Cursed love of gold, it makes men
fools, madmen, villains! We have now but two days' water--doled out as
it is drop by drop. Look at their emaci