position, as he broke into a sob and called on God to save him.

Making our way to the other side of the vessel, we found him sitting
disconsolately on a coil of rope, and did our best to cheer him. The
skipper joined us, but no other man stirred hand or foot. Apparently
their terrible suffering had overpowered all feeling of sympathy.

"Don't give way," said Jose brightly, laying a hand on his shoulder;
"bear up, there's a good fellow. Rain may fall at any moment now, and
then we shall be saved."

"Ah, senor," cried the poor fellow huskily, "my throat is parched,
parched; my head is like a burning coal! but I will be quiet now and
brave--if I can."

"This is terrible," exclaimed the captain piteously, as after a time we
turned away.

"Hope must be our sheet-anchor," said Jose. "Once cut ourselves adrift
from that, and we shall go to ruin headlong."

He spoke bravely, but his words came from the lips only, and this we
all knew. Sitting down on a coil of rope, we waited for the night to
pass, longing for yet dreading the appearance of another dawn. It was
dreadfully silent, except when some poor fellow broke the stillness
with his groans and cries of anguish.

It was, as nearly as I could judge, about one o'clock in the morning,
when Jose suddenly sprang to his feet with a cry of joy.

"What is it?" I asked; and he, clapping his hands, exclaimed,--

"Lightning! See, there is another flash.--Get up, my hearties; the
wind's rising. There's a beautiful clap of thunder. We shall have a
fine storm presently!"

One by one the men staggered to their feet. They heard the crash of
the thunder, and a broad sheet of lightning showed them banks of cloud
gathering thick and black overhead. Directed by the captain and helped
by Jose, they spread every sail and awning that could be used,
collected buckets and a spare cask, and awaited the rain eagerly and
expectantly. Would it come? Fiery snakes played about the tops of the
masts or leaped from sky to sea; the thunder pealed and pealed again
through the air; the wind rose, the sails filled, the schooner moved
through the water, but no rain fell.

I cannot tell you a tithe of the hopes and fears which passed through
our hearts during the next half-hour. Now we exulted in the certainty
of relief; again we were thrown into the abyss of despair. We stood
looking at the darkness, hoping, praying that the life-giving rain
might fall speedily upon our upturned fac