rst was a real agony.

I was not again hungry. The provisions which I had purchased with the
price of my sloop were not yet exhausted. Some pieces of the cheese,
and several of the biscuits, still remained, but I did not venture to
touch them. They would only have increased my thirst. The last morsels
I had eaten had produced this effect. My parched throat called only for
water--water at that moment appeared to me the most desirable thing in
the world.

I was in a situation somewhat similar to that of Tantalus. Water I saw
not, but I heard it. The hoarse rushing of the waves as they tore along
the sides of the ship was plainly audible. I knew it was the water of
the sea--salt, and of no service to me, even could I have reached it--
but still it was the sound of water playing continually on my ears as if
to mock and tantalise me.

I need not recount the many painful reflections that passed through my
mind during the period that followed. Suffice it to say, that for many
long hours I endured the terrible pain of thirst, without any hope of
being relieved from its torture. I felt certain it was going to kill
me. I knew not how soon, but I was sure that sooner or later it would
cause my death. I had read of men living for days under the agony of
thirst, before life became extinct. I tried to remember how many days
they had lived, but my memory was at fault. Six or seven, I fancied,
was the longest period. The prospect was appalling. How could I endure
for six or seven days what I was then suffering? How could I bear it
for even one day longer? Oh! it was fearful to endure! I hoped that
death would sooner come, and release me from such torture!

But a far brighter hope was nigh; and almost upon the instant that I had
given mental expression to that despairing wish, a sound fell upon my
ears that at once changed the current of my thoughts, and caused me to
forget the horror of my situation.

Oh! that sweet sound! It was like the whisper of an angel of mercy!

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

A SWEET SOUND.

I was lying, or half-standing erect, with my shoulder against one of the
great ribs of the ship that traversed my little chamber from top to
bottom, dividing it into two nearly equal parts. I had got into this
attitude merely as a change; for during the long days and nights since I
entered my confined quarters, I had tried every attitude I could think
of, in order to obtain freedom from the monotony