g all was discovered, armed
himself with the only boarding axe left on the raft, made his retreat to
the front, enveloped himself in a piece of drapery he wore across his
breast, and of his own accord threw himself into the sea. The rebels
rushed forward to avenge their comrades; a terrible conflict again
commenced; both sides fought with desperate fury; and soon the fatal
raft was strewed with dead bodies and blood, which should have been shed
by other hands, and in another cause. In this tumult we heard them again
demanding, with horrid rage, the head of Lieut. Danglas! In this assault
the unfortunate sutler was a second time thrown into the sea. M. Coudin,
assisted by some workmen, saved her, to prolong for a little while her
torments and her existence.

In this terrible night Lavillette failed not to give proofs of the
rarest intrepidity. It was to him and some of these who have survived
the sequel of our misfortunes, that we owed our safety. At last, after
unheard of efforts, the rebels were once more repulsed, and quiet
restored. Having escaped this new danger, we endeavoured to get some
repose. The day at length dawned upon us for the fifth time. We were
now no more than thirty in number. We had lost four or five of our
faithful sailors, and those who survived were in the most deplorable
condition. The sea-water had almost entirely excoriated the skin of our
lower extremities; we were covered with contusions or wounds, which,
irritated by the salt water, extorted from us the most piercing cries.
About twenty of us only were capable of standing upright or walking.
Almost all our fish was exhausted; we had but four days' supply of wine:
in four days, said we, nothing will be left, and death will be
inevitable. Thus came the seventh day of our abandonment. In the course
of the day two soldiers had glided behind the only barrel of wine that
was left; pierced it, and were drinking by means of a reed. We had sworn
that those who used such means should be punished with death; which law
was instantly put in execution, and the two transgressors were thrown
into the sea.

This same day saw the close of the life of a child named Leon, aged
twelve years. He died like a lamp which ceases to burn for want of
aliment. All spoke in favour of this young and amiable creature, who
merited a better fate. His angelic form, his musical voice, the interest
of an age so tender, increased still more by the courage he had shown,
and the