By what dreadful means he sustained
his life, I only guessed. Sometimes he
shouted out my name, and then began
again to utter those cries that I had heard
before. It was evident to me that he felt
some spite against me; why, I knew not,
for he could not have discovered my secret.
If he had, he might have rifled my box long
before. This idea, however, induced me to
remove it by night into the top; where I
finally withdrew myself, and now sought, in
cherishing my poor companion, to find relief
from evil thoughts. Once, when she opened
her eyes, looking round, as if in quest of her
former protector, she shuddered, and turned
her face to me imploringly, as if she knew
that I had power to save him yet: but at
other times, even when conscious of my care,
—as when I wetted some biscuit into a paste
and put to her lips—she seemed to have
forgotten the horrors of the place.

"Hour by hour I felt an interest in the fate
of this girl growing up within me, more deep
than any feeling I had ever known. I
reduced my own share of my little store of food
and water to the lowest point that I might
sustain her the longer. I watched her face
as she lay sleeping, and it seemed to me so
beautiful, that sometimes I fancied that my
sufferings had brought upon me a kind of
delirium in which shipwrecked men see
visions which mock their horrible and lonely
state; but at most times, I clung to her with
no thought but that of saving her from death.
It seemed to me as if in hiding my store of
provisions I had but unconsciously prepared
a means of rescuing her from that dreadful
end which had befallen our companions.
Sometimes, indeed, the idea would come upon
me that if she should escape she would
remember that I had had the power to prolong
her uncle's life—that I had marked his
sufferings, and had yet held my hand. Would
this make her hate me? The thought was
now more terrible to me even than death.

"One night, having shrouded myself in sail-
cloth— worn out with tending her—I dropped
asleep. I dreamed of warm and sheltered
places; of walking in gardens in which. the
sunlight fell on an ancient red-bricked wall
where fruits were ripening; and with me
was my dear companion— she my wife, and I
no longer a poor horny-handed seaman, but a
gentleman, as I had thought to be before I ran
from home. This, and many such places, I
had dreamed of— she with me in them all.
I was suddenly awakened by a shriek, and,
starting, found a hand at my throat. In an
instant, I felt a wound as from a knife upon
my arm; but I grappled with my antagonist
in the darkness. A cry that he uttered told
me in a moment that it was old Ephraim.

"'To the devil! ' he exclaimed, as he
struck at me again with great force: ' Why
should I eat vultures' food! '

"He was a man of great strength. I
struggled hard. I had no weapon; and if
I had not warded off his last blow, he
had struck me dead. But the top was
slippery with the misty night-dews, and
his foot tripped, and he staggered over
the rope and sail-cloth in which I had
been wrapped. Following up my advantage
quickly, I thrust him from me, and he fell. I
heard a dull splash in the water below. I
slipped down the shrouds some distance and
listened, but could hear nothing. Old Ephraim
had perished.

"Grey light was dawning, and the mists had
cleared away, when I hastened up again to my
companion, calling to her by the way; for her
silence made me think that she had fallen
into a swoon. She gave no answer, nor did
she speak as I raised her from the ground,
and found to my horror that there was blood
upon her. My box, in which I had still some
biscuits remaining, I had made a resting-place
for her head, but it had been pulled out, and
the sail-cloth which covered her had been
drawn aside. The madman or devil who had
assailed me, had roused her in endeavouring
to remove the box, and when she shrieked
had stabbed her. She was still warm and
gave some signs of breathing; but they
grew fainter. I spoke to her by name,
calling aloud as I would call to some one at a
distance; but she was already in the distance
of eternity.

Of all that wretched band none now was
living except I. Careless of all, and with a
superstitious feeling that the box had somehow
brought this fate upon me, I arose and
cast its contents out into the wind, and sat
down upon the edge of the top, with my feet
hanging over, and with my head resting on
my hand.

"Loss of blood from my wound quickly
made me feel a drowsiness in which it was
strange that I did not fall from that height.
Sometime after this— like a man neither
asleep or awake— I heard a noise of voices
below, and rousing myself, with an effort, I
looked down and saw a boat alongside, with
two seamen guarding it; and there, about a
mile on our larboard side, was a large brig
brought to in a calm sea."

"When Thoresby reached this point in the
narrative he paused. Though curious to
know the end of his strange story, I waited,
determining not to press him to speak.

"They nursed me and brought me round,"
he continued, " but they did not like me.
They thought that I had killed my
companion and her protector, and that the wound
that I had got had been received in the struggle.
They whispered together that I had done
this to rob them of their stock of food; and
when they got into a French port they would
have had me tried for murder and hung, or
sent to the galleys. But they could make no case
against me; and I was free. Ay, I was free!"
Thoresby continued, clutching my arm; " but
the calumnies stuck to me. The old story has