the track
of ships, and if it should be our chance to discover one, the people on
board are not likely to observe us. I wish I had never left the
island."

Mrs Reichardt never reproached me--never so much as reminded me that it
was my own fault. She merely added, "It was the will of God."

We ate and drank our small rations--my companion always blessing the
meal, and offering a thanksgiving for being permitted to enjoy it. I
noticed what was left. We had been extremely economical, yet there was
barely enough for another day. We determined still further to reduce
the trifling portion we allowed ourselves that we might increase our
chance of escape.

CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

Five days and nights had we been drifting at the mercy of the winds and
waves; all our small stock of food had been devoured--though we had
hoarded every crumb, as the miser hoards his gold. Even the rain-water,
as well as the water we had brought with us, we had drained to the last
drop.

The weather continually alternated from a dead calm to a light breeze:
the wind frequently shifted, but I had no strength left to attend to the
sail--the boat was abandoned to its own guidance, or rather to that of
the wind. When becalmed, we lay still; when the breeze sprung up, we
pursued our course till the sail no longer felt its influence.

Five long days and nights--days of intolerable suffering, nights of
inexpressible horror. From sunrise to sunset I strained my eyes along
the line of the horizon, but nothing but sky and wave ever met my gaze.
When it became dark, excited by the deep anxiety I had endured
throughout the day, I could not sleep. I fancied I beheld through the
darkness monstrous forms mocking and gibbering, and high above them all
was reared the head of the enormous python I had combated in the Happy
Valley. And he opened his tremendous jaws, as though to swallow me, and
displayed fold upon fold of his immense form, as if to involve and crush
the boat in its mighty involutions.

I was always glad when the day dawned, or if the night happened to be
fair and starlight; for the spectres vanished when the sun shone, and
the tranquil beauty of the stars calmed my soul.

I was famishing for want of food--but I suffered most from want of
water, for the heat during the day was tremendous, and I became so
frantic from thirst, that nothing but the exhortations of Mrs Reichardt
would have prevented me from dashing myself into the sea,