Chapter 52 - Page 2

a clear blue sky beyond.
Fierce sunbeams pierced the cloud-rifts, scorching and burning
our bodies like red-hot iron; but it was only above our heads
that there was any sunlight to condense the vapour; the horizon
was still quite invisible. There was no wind, and for half an
hour longer the fog hung heavily round the raft; whilst Curtis,
leaning against the side, strove to penetrate the obscurity. At
length the sun burst forth in full power, and, sweeping the
surface of the ocean, dispelled the fog, and left the horizon
opened to our eyes.

There, exactly as we had seen it for the last six weeks, was the
circle that bounded sea and sky, unbroken, definite, distinct as
ever! Curtis gazed with intensest scrutiny, but did not speak a
word. I pitied him sincerely, for he alone of us all felt that
he had not the right to put an end to his misery. For myself I
had fully determined that if I lived till the following day, I
would die by my own hand. Whether my companions were still
alive, I hardly cared to know; it seemed as though days had
passed since I had seen them.

Night drew on, but I could not sleep for a moment. Towards two
o'clock in the morning my thirst was so intense that I was unable
to suppress loud cries of agony. Was there nothing that would
serve to quench the fire that was burning within me? What if
instead of drinking the blood of others I were to drink my own?
It would be all unavailing, I was well aware, but scarcely had
the thought crossed my mind, than I proceeded to put it into
execution. I unclasped my knife, and, stripping my arm, with a
steady thrust I opened a small vein. The blood oozed out slowly,
drop by drop, and as I eagerly swallowed the source of my very
life, I felt that for a moment my torments were relieved, But
only for a moment; all energy had failed my pulses, and almost
immediately the blood had ceased to flow.

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