swam to the spot where the man had gone down.

"Come back!" cried the skipper hoarsely; "you will be drowned! The
poor fellow has lost his senses." But Jose, unheeding the warning,
clutched the man as he came to the surface a second time.

We heard the demented laugh of the drowning sailor, and then the two
disappeared--down, down into the depths together.

"He has thrown his life away for a madman!" said the captain, and his
words brought me to my senses.

With a prayer in my heart I leaped into the sea, hoping that I might
yet save the brave fellow.

A cry from the schooner told me that he had reappeared, and soon I saw
him alone, and well-nigh exhausted. A dozen strokes took me to his
side, and then, half supporting him, I turned toward the vessel. The
men flung us a rope, and willing hands hauled first Jose and then me
aboard.

"A brave act," said the skipper gruffly, "but foolhardy!"

Jose smiled, and, still leaning on me, went below to the cabin, where,
removing our wet things, we had a good rub down.

"Thanks, my boy!" said Jose, "but for your help I doubt if I could have
got back. The poor beggar nearly throttled me, down under!" and I
noticed on his throat the marks of fingers that must have pressed him
like a vice.

"Do you feel it now?" I asked.

"Only here," touching his throat; "but for that, I should be all the
better for the dip. Let us go on deck again; I am stifling here. And
keep up your spirits, Jack. Don't give way the least bit, or it will
be all over with you. We are in a fearful plight, but help may yet
come." And I promised him solemnly that I would do my best.

CHAPTER II.

THE END OF THE "AGUILA."

The drowning of the crazy sailor had a bad effect on the rest of the
crew, and it became evident that they had abandoned all hope. They
hung about so listlessly that even the captain could not rouse them,
and indeed there was nothing they could do.

This utter inability to help ourselves was the worst evil of the case.
Even I, though only a boy, wanted to do something, no matter what, if
it would help in the struggle for life; but I, like the rest, could
only wait--wait with throat like a furnace, peeling lips, smarting
eyes, and aching head, till death or rain put an end to the misery.

I tried not to think of it, tried to shut out the horrible end so close
at hand; but in vain. Jose sat beside me, endeavouring to rouse me.
It must rain, he said, or the wind woul