th flashed on her. "Oh! Philip,
Philip!" cried she, "then it is true and you are gone for ever! I
thought it was only a dream: I recollect all now. Yes--all--all!" And
Amine sank down again upon her cot which had been placed in the centre
of the raft, and remained motionless for some time.

But the demand for water became imperious; she seized one of the
bottles, and drank. "Yet why should I drink or eat? why should I wish
to preserve life?" She rose, and looked round the horizon. "Sky and
water, nothing more. Is this the death I am to die--the cruel death
prophesied by Schriften--a lingering death under a burning sun, while my
vitals are parched within? Be it so! Fate, I dare thee to thy worst--
we can die but once--and without him, what care I to live? But yet I
may see him again," continued Amine, hurriedly, after a pause. "Yes, I
may--who knows? then welcome life; I'll nurse thee for that bare hope--
bare indeed, with naught to feed on. Let me see--is it here still?"
Amine looked at her zone, and perceived her dagger was still in it.
"Well, then, I will live since death is at my command, and be guardful
of life for my dear husband's sake." And Amine threw herself on her
resting-place that she might forget every thing. She did: from that
morning till the noon of the next day she remained in a state of torpor.

When she again rose, she was faint; again she looked round her--there
was but sky and water to be seen.

"Oh! this solitude--it is horrible! death would be a release--but no, I
must not die--I must live for Philip." She refreshed herself with water
and a few pieces of biscuit, and folded her arms across her breast. "A
few more days without relief, and all must be over. Was ever woman
situated as I am, and yet I dare to indulge hope? Why, 'tis madness!
And why am I thus singled out: because I have wedded with Philip? It
may be so; if so, I welcome it. Wretches! who thus severed me from my
husband; who to save their own lives, sacrificed a helpless woman! Nay!
they might have saved me, if they had had the least pity;--but no, they
never felt it. And these are Christians! The creed that the old
priests would have had me--yes! that Philip would have had me embrace.
Charity and good-will! They talk of it, but I have never seen them
practise it! Loving one another!--forgiving one another!--say rather
hating and preying upon one another! A creed never practised: why, if
not practised of w