till for a
lengthened period, he would burst forth again without warning and with
increased fury.

And still, while they sat thus holding down the maniac, the wind blew
fiercely over the raging sea, and the waves curled over and burst upon
their tiny breakwater, sending clouds of spray over their head, insomuch
that, ere morning, the boat was nearly half full of water.

When morning at last broke, father and son were so much exhausted that
they could scarcely sit up, and their cramped fingers clung, more by
necessity than by voluntary effort, to the garments of the now dying
man.

Graddy was still active and watchful, however. His face was awful to
look upon, and the fire of his restless eyes was unabated. When the sun
rose above the horizon both Gaff and Billy turned their weary eyes to
look at it. The madman noted the action, and seized the opportunity.
He sprang with an unearthly yell, overturned them both, and plunged head
foremost into the sea.

Twice he rose and gave vent to a loud gurgling cry, while Gaff and his
son seized the rope attached to the oars, intending to pull them in and
row to his assistance, for he had leaped so far out that he was beyond
their reach. But before they had pulled in half of the cable the
wretched man had disappeared from their view for ever.

Slacking off the rope they let the boat drift astern again to its full
extent. Then, without a word, without even a look, father and son lay
down together in the stern-sheets, and were instantly buried in a
profound deathlike slumber.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

THE VOYAGE OF THE BOTTLE.

The little fragile craft which Stephen Gaff sent adrift upon the world
of waters freighted with its precious document, began its long voyage
with no uncertainty as to its course, although to the eye of man it
might have appeared to be the sport of uncertain waves and breezes.

When the bottle fell upon the broad bosom of the South Pacific, it sank
as if its career were to end at the beginning; but immediately it
re-appeared with a leap, as if the imprisoned spirit of the atmosphere
were anxious to get out. Then it settled down in its watery bed until
nothing but the neck and an inch of the shoulder was visible above the
surface. Thus it remained; thus it floated in the deep, in storm and
calm, in heat and cold; thus it voyaged more safely, though not more
swiftly, than all the proud ships that spread their lofty canvas to the
breeze, night and day,