ecutors. Night after night the stars beamed peacefully above him,
luring his thoughts upward, but he saw in them only the signals of
drunken revelry to others, and of deeper woe to himself. There was but
one wish in his heart--it had almost ceased to be a hope--to escape from
man; to live and die where he should never see his form, never hear his
voice. The ship encountered a severe storm. She was driven from her
course, her voyage lengthened, and some of her water-casks were stove
in. They made for an island, not far distant, by the chart, to take in a
fresh supply of water. Edward Hallett heard the sailors say to each
other that this island was uninhabited, and his wish grew into a
passionate desire--a hope. For the completion of this hope, he had but
one resource--the sword and the shield of the feeble--cunning; and well
he exercised his weapon.

The ship lay within a quarter of a mile of the shore, and a boat was
sent to procure water--one man remaining always to fill the empty
vessels while the others returned to the ship with those already filled.
The best means of accomplishing his purpose that occurred to the poor
boy was to feign the utmost degree of terror at the lonely and
unprotected situation of this man during the absence of his comrades. He
spoke his terrors where he knew they would be heard by the prime author
of his miseries. The result was what he had anticipated.

"Ye're afraid, are ye, of being left there by yerself! Ye'd rather be
whipped, or tied up by the thumbs, or be kept at the mast-head all
night, would ye? Then, dam'me, that's just what I'll do to you. Here,
hold on with that boat--take this youngster with you, and you can bring
back Tom, and leave him to fill the casks for you."

Well did the object of his tyranny act his part. He entreated, he
adjured all around him to save him from so dreaded a fate--in vain, of
course--for his affected agonies only riveted the determination of his
tyrant. It was a new delight to see him writhe in agony, and strive to
draw back from those who were urging him to the boat. He was forced in,
borne to the island, and left to his task. But this was not enough. He
could not escape in the broad light of day, from a spot directly under
the eyes of his tormentors, while between him and the ship a boat was
ever coming and going. Through the day he must persist in the part he
had assumed. He did not fail to continue it, and when the day approached
its close, he sen