will--we can hold out for that length of time.
And let me reassure you upon one point: so long as we are fully immersed
in the water, as we now are, we shall not suffer very greatly from
thirst; the water penetrates through the pores of the skin, and, being
filtered as it were in the process, alleviates to a very considerable
extent the craving for liquid that must otherwise result from long
abstinence. Hunger, of course, is another matter; but we must make up
our minds to endure that as best we may. You will understand that I am
now looking at the bright side of things; there is a dark side also, but
we will not consider that at present. What we have to do just now is to
be hopeful; to maintain one's hopefulness is half the battle. And, if
the assurance will help in the least to encourage you, I should like you
clearly to understand that so long as life--or at least consciousness
and a particle of strength--remains to me, you may rely upon my doing my
level best for you. And, being by profession a sailor, I may be able to
do much that a landsman could not. Meanwhile, however, all that we can
do at present is to wait patiently for daylight. One point is already
declaring itself in our favour; I notice that the fog is lifting."

"Is it?" responded the girl, wearily. "I cannot say that I am able to
detect any improvement. But, naturally, a sailor's trained eyes would
be more quick to see such a change than those of a lands-woman like
myself. And you spoke of yourself as a sailor. I seem to recognise
your voice. Are you one of the officers of the _Golden Fleece_?"

"No," answered Leslie. "My connection with the ship was simply that of
a passenger like yourself. But I used to belong to the British navy;
and although I left it some seven years ago, I venture to believe that
my knowledge of seamanship has not yet grown quite rusty. My name is
Leslie--Richard Leslie, and unless my ears deceive me you are Miss
Trevor."

"Yes," assented the girl; "you are quite right. I am that unfortunate
individual--unfortunate, that is to say, in that I yielded to my poor
aunt's persuasions and consented to embark in a sailing ship instead of
going out to Australia in a mail steamer. I had not been very well for
some months, and it was thought that the longer voyage by a sailing ship
would benefit my health. And so you are Mr Leslie, the gentleman who
held himself so rigidly aloof from all that he excited everybody's most