The unfortunate man rolled over the side of the raft
and instantly disappeared.
"Save him! save him!" shouted the boatswain.
"It's too late; he's dead!" said Dowlas.
"Ah, well! he'll do for--" began the boatswain; but he did not
finish his sentence.
Wilson's death, however, put an end to the fray. Flaypole and
Burke were lying prostrate in a drunken stupour, and Jynxtrop was
soon overpowered, and lashed tightly to the foot of the mast.
The carpenter and the boatswain seized hold of Owen.
"Now then," said Curtis, as he raised his blood-stained hatchet,
"make your peace with God, for you have not a moment to live."
"Oh, you want to eat me, do you?" sneered Owen, with the most
hardened effrontery.
But the audacious reply saved his life; Curtis turned as pale as
death, the hatchet dropped from his hand, and he went and seated
himself moodily on the farthest corner of the raft.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
JANUARY 5th and 6th.--The whole scene made a deep impression on
our minds, and Owen's speech coming as a sort of climax, brought
before us our misery with a force that was well-nigh
overwhelming.
As soon as I recovered my composure, I did not forget to thank
Andre Letourneur for the act of intervention that had saved my
life.
"Do you thank me for that; Mr. Kazallon?" he said; "it has only
served to prolong your misery."
"Never mind, M. Letourneur," said Miss Herbey; "you did your
duty."
Enfeebled and emaciated as the young girl is, her sense of duty
never deserts her, and although her torn and bedraggled garments
float dejectedly about her body, she never utters a word of
complaint, and never loses courage.
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