ural that their thoughts should lapse into
some other channel; and equally so, that they should turn back to that
from which they had been so unexpectedly diverted.

Hunger,--keen, craving hunger,--easily transported them to the spectacle
which the sheen of that false torch had brought to an unsatisfactory
termination; and their minds now dwelt on what would have been the
different condition of affairs, had they not yielded to the delusion.

Not only had their thoughts reference to this theme, but their speeches;
and in the solemn hour of midnight,--in the midst of that gloomy vapour,
darkly overshadowing the great deep,--they might have been heard again
discussing the awful question, "Who dies next?"

To arrive at a decision was not so difficult as before. The majority of
the men had made up their minds as to the course that should be pursued.
It was no longer a question of casting lots. That had been done
already; and the two who had not yet drawn clear--and between whom the
thing still remained undecided--were undoubtedly the individuals to
determine the matter.

Indeed, there was no debate. All were unanimous that either Le Gros or
O'Gorman should furnish food for their famishing companions,--in other
words, that the combat, so unexpectedly postponed, should be again
resumed.

There was nothing unfair in this,--except to the Irish man. He had
certainly secured his triumph, when interrupted. If another half-second
had been allowed him, his antagonist would have lain lifeless at his
feet.

Under the judgment of just umpires this circumstance would have weighed
in his favour; and, perhaps, exempted him from any further risk; but,
tried by the shipwrecked crew of a slaver,--more than a moiety of whom
leaned towards his antagonist,--the sentence was different; and the
majority of the judges proclaimed that the combat between him and Le
Gros should be renewed, and continued to the death.

The renewal of it was not to take place on the moment. Night and
darkness both forbade this; but the morning's earliest light was to
witness the resumption of that terrible strife.

Thus resolved, the ex-crew of the _Pandora_ laid themselves down to
sleep,--not quite so calmly as they might have done in the forecastle of
the slaver; for thirst, hunger, and fears for a hopeless future,--
without saying anything of a hard couch,--were not the companions with
which to approach the shrine of Somnus. As a counterpoise, they fe