would not fall upon him while he was still alive. It seemed impossible
that any appeal to their humanity could, at such a moment, have any
weight; nevertheless, the appeal was made, and, incredible as it may
seem, prevailed.

Just as the boatswain was about to act the part of butcher, and Dowlas
stood, hatchet in hand, ready to complete the barbarous work, Miss
Herbey advanced, or rather crawled, towards them.

"My friends," she pleaded, "will you not wait just one more day? If no
land or ship is in sight to-morrow, then I suppose our poor companion
must become your victim. But allow him one more day; in the name of
mercy I entreat, I implore you."

My heart bounded as she made her pitiful appeal. It seemed to me as
though the noble girl had spoken with an inspiration on her lips, and I
fancied that, perhaps, in super-natural vision she had viewed the coast
or the ship of which she spoke; and one more day was not much to us who
had already suffered so long, and endured so much.

Curtis and Falsten agreed with me, and we all united to support Miss
Herbey's merciful petition. The sailors did not utter a murmur, and the
boatswain in a smothered voice said,--

"Very well, we will wait till daybreak tomorrow," and threw down his
hatchet.

To-morrow, then, unless land or a sail appear, the horrible sacrifice
will be accomplished. Stifling their sufferings by a strenuous effort,
all returned to their places. The sailors crouched beneath the sails,
caring nothing about scanning the ocean. Food was in store for them
to-morrow, and that was enough for them.

As soon as Andre Letourneur came to his senses, his first thought was
for his father, and I saw him count the passengers on the raft. He
looked puzzled; when he lost consciousness there had been only two
names left in the hat, those of his father and the carpenter; and yet M.
Letourneur and Dowlas were both there still. Miss Herbey went up to
him and told him quietly that the drawing of the lots had not yet been
finished. Andre asked no further question, but took his father's
hand. M. Letourneur's countenance was calm and serene; he seemed to be
conscious of nothing except that the life of his son was spared, and as
the two sat conversing in an undertone at the back of the raft, their
whole existence seemed bound up in each other.

Meantime, I could not disabuse my mind of the impression caused by Miss
Herbey's intervention. Something told me that help was near at h