med, and the temperature is as high as ever.
The air is heated like a furnace, and the sun scorches like fire. The
torments of famine are all forgotten: our thoughts are concentrated with
fevered expectation upon the longed-for moment when Curtis shall dole
out the scanty measure of lukewarm water that makes up our ration. O for
one good draught, even if it should exhaust the whole supply! At least,
it seems as if we then could die in peace!

About noon we were startled by sharp cries of agony, and looking round I
saw Owen writhing in the most horrible convulsions. I went towards him,
for, detestable as his conduct had been, common humanity prompted me to
see whether I could afford him any relief. But before I reached him, a
shout from Flaypole arrested my attention.

The man was up in the mast, and with great excitement pointing to the
east.

"A ship! A ship!" he cried.

In an instant all were on their feet. Even Owen stopped his cries
and stood erect. It was quite true that in the direction indicated by
Flaypole there was a white speck visible upon the horizon. But did it
move? Would the sailors with their keen vision pronounce it to be a
sail? A silence the most profound fell upon us all. I glanced at Curtis
as he stood with folded arms intently gazing at the distant point. His
brow was furrowed, and he contracted every feature, as with half-closed
eyes, he concentrated his power of vision upon that one faint spot in
the far-off horizon.

But at length he dropped his arms and shook his head. I looked again,
but the spot was no longer there. If it were a ship, that ship had
disappeared; but probably it had been a mere reflection, or, more likely
still, only the crest of some curling wave.

A deep dejection followed this phantom ray of hope. All returned to
their accustomed places. Curtis alone remained motionless, but his eye
no longer scanned the distant view.

Owen now began to shriek more wildly than ever. He presented truly a
most melancholy sight; he writhed with the most hideous contortions,
and had all the appearance of suffering from tetanus. His throat was
contracted by repeated spasms, his tongue was parched, his body swollen,
and his pulse, though feeble, was rapid and irregular. The poor wretch's
symptoms were precisely such as to lead us to suspect that he had
taken some corrosive poison. Of course it was quite out of our power
to administer any antidote; all that we could devise was to make him