around him; he had the feeling that they would come up and
claim him as their prey, and yet he had no power to drag himself farther
away. He had consciousness enough left to show that he was on a wild
sea beach, and to believe that his last moments were approaching. At
length he fell asleep, and probably slept for some hours, for when he
awoke he felt greatly refreshed. It was still dark. He tried to stand
up, that he might ascertain the nature of the country on which he had
been thrown; he could see no trees, and he fancied that he could
distinguish the foam-covered waves leaping up on the other side of the
land. It might be a point of land, or it might be some small sandy
islet; it had, at all events, a very desolate appearance. Was he its
sole occupant? He scarcely dared to shout out an inquiry, lest the
sea-bird's shriek should be the only reply he might receive--or, what
would be worse, no responding voice should answer him. He sat down
again, wishing that day would come. He felt very sad--very forlorn. He
could scarcely refrain from crying bitterly, and almost wished that he
had been swallowed up by the foaming sea. He sat on, wishing that the
night would come to an end. How long it seemed! Hour after hour passed
by; he could not sleep, and yet he would gladly have lost all
recollection of his past sufferings, and thoughts of those which were to
come. He watched the hurricane decreasing; the wind grew less and less
in strength; the waves lashed the island shores with diminished fury;
and the foam no longer flew, as heretofore, in dense showers over him.
Dawn at last broke, and before long the sun himself rose up out of his
ocean bed. Paul started to his feet, and looked about him. Along the
beach, at no great distance, his eye fell on two figures. He rushed
towards them. They did not see him, for they were sitting down, looking
the other way. He shouted for joy on recognising Devereux and O'Grady.
On hearing his voice they turned their heads, and the latter, jumping
up, ran to meet him. The greeting was warm, for both looked on each
other as rescued from the grave. Poor Devereux, however, did not move;
and as Paul got nearer to him he saw that he was very pale.

"I'm so glad that you have escaped, Gerrard, both for your sake and
ours," exclaimed O'Grady, shaking hands with Paul, and forgetting all
about their supposed difference in rank: "I do believe that with your
help Devereux may recover.