her; but, if so, it was not repeated, and I therefore scarcely
know what to think. However, we shall soon know now. Of one thing I
feel sure, and that is that, if there are any people in that boat, they
must be in the last stage of exhaustion, or a better lookout would have
been maintained, our proximity discovered, and some effort made ere now,
either to reach us or to attract our attention."

"Do you mean that you think it possible there are people actually
_dying_ in that boat?"

"If she really contains any human beings it would not in the least
surprise me were we to find them in that condition; dying, too, one of
the most dreadful deaths that man can be called upon to endure, a slow,
lingering agony--the indescribable, maddening torment of long-continued
hunger and thirst," said I.

"Oh, what an awful possibility to contemplate!" murmured her ladyship,
her face blanching at the picture my words had conjured up. "Poor
creatures! how frightful to think that--"

"By Heaven, there _is_ at least one living being in that boat!"
interrupted Sir Edgar, excitedly, as he lowered his binoculars and
turned to me. "See, captain,"--looking again toward the boat--"you can
distinguish him with the naked eye."

At the same moment Forbes hailed from the topgallant forecastle--

"There's a man in that boat, sir! Do you see him waving to us?"

"Yes," I answered, as I caught a momentary glimpse of an upright figure
that seemed to give a single wave with its arm and then collapse into
the bottom of the boat. "Let go your fore-royal halliards, Mr Forbes,
and run the ensign up to the royal-masthead. That will give them to
understand that we have seen them."

This was done, and after an interval that seemed quite long, but was
probably less than half a minute from the hoisting of our signal, I
again saw--this time through the telescope--a figure rise up in the
boat, wave its arm, and sink down again.

"That man is in the very last stage of exhaustion," said I to the
Desmond party generally; "I am sure of it, or he would not act as he
does. His sail, you see, is all adrift; yet he makes no effort whatever
to secure it and head the boat toward us, nor does he attempt to get out
an oar to lessen his distance from us. Unless I am altogether mistaken,
the unfortunate creature has been driven clean out of his senses by the
tortures of thirst and exposure, and does not know what he is doing; the
little strength he has left bei