hat he
believes is for the best and because he thinks it is right, he has no
cause to grumble or to be unhappy," he observed in his quiet way.
"Don't you fear, all will turn out right at last."

Paul felt weaker than he had ever done before, and his eye was dim and
his voice sounded hollow, and yet his thoughts flowed as freely as ever.
He was fully aware that death might be approaching, yet he had no fear
of death. He thought of home and of his mother and sisters, and he
prayed for them, and that they might not grieve very much at his loss.
He was but a poor young ship-boy, but he knew that his mother would
mourn for him as much as would the mother of Devereux, or any other
high-born midshipman on board.

The sun rose higher and higher in the sky: its rays struck down as hotly
as on the day before. "Water! water! water!" was the cry from all on
the raft; still discipline prevailed, though only a young midshipman was
the chief, and not a man attempted to take more than his share. At
about noon Paul was feeling that he could not endure many more hours of
such thirst, when he saw Reuben's eyes directed to the north-east.

"Yes! yes! it is! it is!" exclaimed Reuben at length.

"What! a ship?" asked Paul, almost breathless with eagerness.

"No, but a breeze," cried his friend. "It may carry us to land; it may
send us rain! it may bring up a ship to our rescue."

All eyes were now turned in the direction from which the breeze was
supposed to be coming. At the edge of the hitherto unvarying expanse of
molten silver, a dark blue line was seen; broader and broader it grew.
With such strength as they possessed the seamen hoisted their sail. It
bulged out and again flattened against the mast; now again it filled,
and the raft began to glide slowly over the ocean. A faint cheer burst
from the throats of the hitherto despairing crew; yet how many long
leagues must be passed over before that raft could reach the land! How
many of those now living on it would set foot on that land? Too
probably not one--not one. Day after day the raft glided on, but each
day death claimed a victim. Still, Devereux and O'Grady and Alphonse
kept up their spirits in a way which appealed wonderful to Paul, till he
found that he was himself equally resolved to bear up to the last.
There was still some food; still a few drops of water. Rain might come;
the wind was increasing; clouds were gathering in the sky; the sea was
getting up, and