each where we were thrown."

Voules groaned deeply. "I am much obliged to you, Oswald, for what you
have done for me, but it is of no use. I almost wish that you had left
me to perish in the sea, for I feel that I am dying. It is very
terrible; I have all sorts of sins on my conscience. Then I think of
how I encouraged you to get that young Hargrave and the older man Rudall
carried off from their homes, and how they have both now probably been
lost. It seems to me as if their deaths were at my door."

"If they are at yours, they are at mine also," said Lord Reginald. "I
dislike the fellows, and though I should be thankful if any of the crew
escaped, I should not like to see their faces. The chances are they
would wreak their vengeance on our heads, helpless as we are, without
the slightest means of defence."

"I should be thankful to think that we had not been the cause of their
deaths," said Voules.

"Well, well, don't talk about them, but try and get some sleep, old
fellow; it will restore your strength more than anything else."

Voules groaned. "I shall never sleep again, until the last sleep of
all," he muttered.

"Try, try," said Lord Reginald; "I'll sit up and keep watch."

"Thank you," murmured Voules.

Lord Reginald was silent, but Voules's heavy breathing and the low moans
to which he gave vent, showed that his slumbers were troubled, if he
slept at all. The young lord could understand how much his companion
suffered from the pains which racked his own body, and yet, with the
exception of the few bruises he had received, he was unhurt. For a long
time he sat and watched, earnestly wishing for day, and at length he
himself sank down on the sand and fell asleep. His dreams, too, were
troubled. All the horrors of the shipwreck were ever present to his
thoughts. Now he fancied himself struggling in the waves, now reaching
the beach, but in vain attempting to climb up it, the seas carrying him
back every time his feet touched the firm ground. He awoke with a
start, fancying that Voules was calling him. The sun had risen, and the
rays were streaming across the white sand in front of the cave. The
storm had ceased, though the seas still came rolling sluggishly on,
dashing into foam as they reached the beach.

"Did you call, Voules?" he asked, raising himself on his elbow to look
at his companion, who however made no answer. "I must not awaken him,"
he said; "sleep will do him more good than