How long it seemed before the morning dawned! and when that
morning came it brought another fog, heavy as before that again
shut out the horizon. The fog was hot as the burning steam that
issues from a boiler. It was to be my last day upon earth, and I
felt that I would like to press the hand of a friend before I
died. Curtis was standing near, and crawling up to him, I took
his hand in my own. He seemed to know that I was taking my
farewell, and with one last lingering hope he endeavoured to
restrain me. But all in vain, my mind was finally made up.
I should have like to speak once again to M. Letourneur, Andre
and Miss Herbey, but my courage failed me. I knew that the young
girl would read my resolution in my eyes, and that she would
speak to me of duty and of God, and of eternity, and I dared not
meet her gaze; and I would not run the risk of being persuaded to
wait until a lingering death should overtake me. I returned to
the back of the raft, and after making several efforts, I managed
to get on to my feet. I cast one long look at the pitiless ocean
and the unbroken horizon; if a sail or the outline of a coast bad
broken on my view, I believe that I should only have deemed
myself the victim of an illusion; but nothing of the kind
appeared, and the sea was dreary as a desert.
It was ten o'clock in the morning. The pangs of hunger and the
torments of thirst were racking me with redoubled vigour. All
instinct of self-preservation had left me, and I felt that the
hour had come when I must cease to suffer.
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