deck, I heard a dull knocking and banging just
under them, in the region of the cabin. When
the sound first reached my ears, I got such a
shock of surprise that I could neither move nor
speak. It had never yet crossed my mind that
a single soul was left in the vessel besides
myself—but now, there was something in the
knocking noise which started the hope in me
that I was not alone. I shook myself up, and
got down below directly.

The noise came from inside one of the sleeping
berths, on the far side of the main cabin;
the door of which was jammed, no doubt, just
as my locker had been jammed, by the wrenching
of the ship. " Who's there?" I called out.
A faint, muffled kind of voice answered something
through the air-grating in the upper part
of the door. I got up on the overthrown cabin
furniture; and, looking in through the trelliswork
of the grating, found myself face to face
with the blue spectacles of Mr. Lawrence Clissold,
looking out!

God forgive me for thinking it—but there
was not a man in the vessel I wouldn't sooner
have found alive in her than Mr. Clissold! Of
all that ship's company, we two, who were least
friendly together, were the only two saved.

I had a better chance of breaking out the
jammed door from the main cabin, than he had
from the berth inside; and in less than five
minutes he was set free. I had smelt spirits
already through the air-grating—and now, when
he and I stood face to face, I saw what the
smell meant. There was an open case of spirits
by the bedside—two of the bottles out of it
were lying broken on the floor and Mr. Clissold
was drunk.

"What's the matter with the ship?" says he,
looking fierce, and speaking thick.

"You shall see for yourself," says I. With
which words I took hold of him, and pulled him
after me up the cabin stairs. I reckoned on the
sight that would meet him, when he first looked
over the deck, to sober his drunken brains—and
I reckoned right: he fell on his knees, stock-still
and speechless as if he was turned to
stone.

I lashed him up safe to the cabin rail, and
left it to the air to bring him round. He had,
likely enough, been drinking in the sleeping
berth for days together—for none of us, as I
now remembered, had seen him since the gale
set in—and even if had had sense enough to
try to get out, or to call for help, when the ship
struck, he would not have made himself heard
in the noise and confusion of that awful time.
But for the lull in the weather, I should not
have heard him myself, when he attempted to
get free in the morning. Enemy of mine as he
was, he had a pair of arms—and he was worth
untold gold, in my situation, for that reason.
With the help I could make him give me, there
was no doubt now about launching the boat.
In half an hour I had the means ready for
trying the experiment; and Mr. Clissold was
sober enough to see that his life depended on his
doing what I told him.

The sky looked angry still—there was no
opening anywhere—and the clouds were slowly
banking up again to windward. The supercargo
knew what I meant when I pointed that way,
and worked with a will when I gave him the
word. I had previously stowed away in the
boat such stores of meat, biscuit, and fresh water
as I could readily lay hands on; together with a
compass, a lantern, a few candles, and some
boxes of matches in my pocket, to kindle light
and fire with. At the last moment, I thought
of a gun and some powder and shot. The
powder and shot I found, and an old flint
pocket-pistol in the captain's cabin—with
which, for fear of wasting precious time, I was
forced to be content. The pistol lay on the top
of the medicine-chest—and I took that also,
finding it handy, and not knowing but what it
might be of use. Having made these preparations,
we launched the boat, down the steep of
the deck, into the water over the forward part
of the ship which was sunk. I took the oars,
ordering Mr. Clissold to sit still in the stern
sheets—and pulled for the island.

It was neck or nothing with us more than
once, before we were two hundred yards from
the ship. Luckily, the supercargo was used to
boats; and muddled as he still was, he had
sense enough to sit quiet. We found our way
into the smooth channel which I had noted from
the mizen rigging—after which, it was easy
enough to get ashore.

We landed on a little sandy creek. From the
time of our leaving the ship, the supercargo had
not spoken a word to me, nor I to him. I now
told him to lend a hand in getting the stores out
of the boat, and in helping me to carry them to
the first sheltered, place we could find in shore
on the island. He shook himself up with a
sulky look at me, and did as I had bidden him.
We found a little dip or dell in the ground, after
getting up the low sides of the island, which
was sheltered to windward—and here I left him
to stow away the stores, while I walked farther
on, to survey the place.

According to the hasty judgment I formed at
the time, the island was not a mile across, and
not much more than three miles round. I noted
nothing in the way of food but a few wild roots
and vegetables, growing in ragged patches amidst
the thick scrub which covered the place. There
was not a tree on it anywhere; nor any living
creatures; nor any signs of fresh water that I
could see. Standing on the highest ground, I
looked about anxiously for other islands that
might be inhabited; there were none visible—
at least none in the hazy state of the heavens
that morning. When I fairly discovered what
a desert the place was; when I remembered
how far it lay out of the track of ships; and
when I thought of the small store of provisions
which we had brought with us, the doubt lest
we might only have changed the chance of death
by drowning for the chance of death by starvation
was so strong in me, that I determined to
go back to the boat, with the desperate notion
of making another trip to the vessel for water