wamp sank
into absolute blackness, and the chills of night, which were
particularly sharp in such places, began to tell upon him. But he did
not dare to move, lest he should fall into the swamp. Slowly he
extended himself on the root; wound his arms and fingers convulsively
among leaves and branches, and held on like a drowning man. An ague-fit
seemed to have seized him, for he trembled violently in every limb; and
as his exhausted spirit was about to lose itself in sleep, or, as it
seemed to him, in death, he gave vent to a subdued cry, "God be merciful
to me a sinner!"

Rest, such as it was, refreshed the pirate, and when the grey dawn,
struggling through the dense foliage, awoke him, he rose up with a
feeling of submissiveness which seemed, somehow, to restore his energy.

He was without purpose, however, for he knew nothing of his
surroundings, and, of course, could form no idea of what was best to be
done. In these circumstances he rose with a strange sensation of
helplessness, and wandered straight before him.

And oh! how beautiful were the scenes presented to his vision!
Everything in this world is relative. That which is hideous at one time
is lovely at another. In the night the evening, or at the grey dawn,
the swamp was indeed dismal in the extreme; but when the morning
advanced towards noon all that was changed, as if magically, by the
action of the sun. Black, repulsive waters reflected patches of the
bright blue sky, and every leaf, and spray, and parasite, and tendril,
that grew in the world above was faithfully mirrored in the world below.
Vistas of gnarled roots and graceful stems and drooping boughs were
seen on right and left, before and behind, extending as if into infinite
space, while innumerable insects, engaged in the business of their brief
existence, were filling the region with miniature melodies.

But Richard Rosco saw it not. At least it made no sensible impression
on him. His mental retina was capable of receiving only two pictures:
the concentrated accumulation of past sin--the terrible anticipation of
future retribution. Between these two, present danger and suffering
were well-nigh forgotten.

Towards noon, however, the sense of hunger began to oppress him. He
allayed it with a few wild berries. Then fatigue began to tell, for
walking from root to root sometimes on short stretches of solid land,
sometimes over soft mud, often knee-deep in water, was very exhausting.
At