last long, for shortly after a train of
thought came into my mind that prompted me to further action. It was
memory that came to my aid. I remembered having read a book, which
described very beautifully the struggles of a boy, amidst great
difficulties--how he bravely refused to yield to each new
disappointment; but, by dint of courage and perseverance, overcame every
obstacle, and at last obtained success. I remembered, too, that this
boy had adopted for his motto, the Latin word "Excelsior," which was
explained to mean "_higher_" or "_upward_."

On reflecting upon the struggles which this boy had undergone, and how
he had succeeded in surmounting so many difficulties--some even as great
as those that surrounded myself--I was nerved to make a new effort.

But I believe it was this peculiar word, "Excelsior," that guided me in
my after proceedings, for by its most literal sense was I directed.
_Upward_, thought I; I might search upward. Why did it not occur to me
before? There might be food in this direction, as likely as in any
other, and certainly I had no choice, as every other direction had been
tried. I resolved, then, to search _upward_.

In another minute I was upon my back, knife in hand. I propped myself
with pieces of cloth, so that I might work more conveniently, and after
groping out one of the divisions of the lid, I commenced notching it
crossways.

The board at length gave way to my exertions. I dragged it downwards.
Oh, heavens! were my hopes again destined to suffer defeat and mockery?

Alas! it was even so. The coarse, hard-grained canvas, with the dull
sodden mass behind it, answered me with a sad affirmative.

There yet remained the upper side of the other case, and then that of
the biscuit-box. Both should be tried as a last effort, and that before
I could again sleep.

And both _were_ tried, with like evil fortune. Upon the former rested a
case of the cloth, while another bale of linen completely covered the
top of the latter.

"Merciful God! am I forsaken?"

Such was my exclamation as I sank back into an attitude of complete
exhaustion.

CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT.

A TORRENT OF BRANDY.

Sleep followed, brought on by weariness and long exertion; and when I
awoke, I felt my strength greatly restored. Singular enough, my spirits
were a good deal lighter, and I was far less despairing than I had been
before. It seemed as if some supernatural influence sustained me--
perhaps