Chapter 55

CHAPTER LV.

JANUARY 27th.--I did not close my eyes all night, and was keenly
alive to the faintest sounds, and every ripple of the water, and
every murmur of the waves, broke distinctly on my ear. One thing
I noticed and accepted as a happy omen; not a single shark now
lingered-round the raft. The waning moon rose at a quarter to
one, and through the feeble glimmer which she cast across the
ocean, many and many a time I fancied I caught sight of the
longed-for sail, lying only a few cables' lengths away.

But when morning came, the sun rose once again upon a desert
ocean, and my hopes began to fade. Neither ship nor shore had
appeared, and as the shocking hour of execution drew near, my
dreams of deliverance melted away; I shuddered in my very soul as
I was brought face to face with the stern reality. I dared not
look upon the victim, and whenever his eyes, so full of calmness
and resignation, met my own, I turned away my head. I felt
choked with horror, and my brain reeled as though I were
intoxicated.

It was now six o'clock, and all hope had vanished from my breast;
my heart beat rapidly, and a cold sweat of agony broke out all
over me. Curtis and the boatswain stood by the mast attentively
scanning the horizon. The boatswain's countenance was terrible
to look upon; one could see that although he would not forestall
the hour, he was determined not to wait a moment after it
arrived. As for the captain, it was impossible to tell what
really passed within his mind; his face was livid, and his whole
existence seemed concentrated in the exercise of his power of
vision. The sailors were crawling about the platform, with their
eyes gleaming, like wild beasts ready to pounce upon their
devoted prey.

I could no longer keep my place, and glided along to the front of
the raft. The boatswain was still standing intent on his watch,
but all of a sudden, in a voice that made me start he shouted,--

"Now then, time's up!" and followed by Dowlas, Burke, Flaypole,
and Sandon, ran to the back of the raft. As Dowlas'seized the
hatchet convulsively, Miss Herbey could not suppress a cry of
terror. Andre started to his feet.

"What are you going to do to my father?" he asked in accents
choked with emotion.

"My boy," said M. Letourneur, "the lot has fallen upon me, and I
must die!"

"Never!" shrieked Andre, throwing his arms about his father,
"They shall kill me first. It was I who threw Hobart's body into
the sea, and it is I who ought to die!"

But the words of the unhappy youth had no other effect than to
increase the fury of the men who were so staunchly bent upon
their bloody purpose.

"Come, come, no more fuss," said Dowlas, as he tore the