happened? Had he come upon a loose plank of the buried vessel
whose flag he saw before him? He did not know. But what he never
forgot was the horror of that minute, which was followed by such a
collapse of all his will and strength that he remained for a long time
lying on a piece of wreckage, unable to move a limb and shuddering all
over with fever and mental anguish.

He set off again mechanically, under the irresistible influence of
confused feelings which bade him go forward and reconnoitre. But he
had lost his former energy. His eyes remain obstinately fixed upon
the ground. For no appreciable reason, he judged certain spots to be
dangerous and avoided them by making a circuit, or even leapt back as
though at the sight of an abyss. Simon Dubosc was afraid.

Moreover, after reading on a piece of wood from a wreck the name of Le
Havre, that is to say, the port which lay behind him, he asked himself
anxiously whether the new land had not changed its direction; whether,
by doubling upon itself, it was not leading him into the widest part
of the Channel.

The thought of no longer knowing where he was or whither he was going
increased his lassitude twofold. He felt overwhelmed, discouraged,
terribly alone. He had no hope of rescue, either by sea, on which no
boat would dare put out, or from the air, which the sea-fog had made
impossible for aeroplanes. What would happen then?

Nevertheless he walked on; and the hours went by; and the belt of land
unrolled vaguely before his eyes the same monotonous spectacle, the
same melancholy sand-hills, the same dreary landscapes on which no sun
had ever shone.

"I shall get there," he repeated, stubbornly. "I mean to get there; I
must and shall."

Four o'clock. He often looked at his watch, as though expecting a
miraculous intervention at some precise moment, he did not know when.
Worn out by excessive and ill-directed efforts, exhausted by the fear
of a hideous death, he was gradually yielding beneath the weight of a
fatigue which tortured his body and unhinged his brain. He was afraid.
He dreaded the trap laid for him by the sands. He dreaded the
threatening night, the storm and, above all, hunger, for all his
provisions had been lost in the abyss of the quicksand.

The agony which he suffered! A score of times he was on the point of
stretching himself on the ground and abandoning the struggle. But the
thought of Isabel sustained him; and he walked on and on.

And then,