And to think, great God! I cried out, that the reality of my dream of friendship was so near! To think that once again in my life, by the most unheard-of combination of circumstances, I had only to accept the happiness that was offered to me! To think that once again a fatal monomania had forced me to exchange all these promises of felicity for the most fearful and lifelong remorse! Then seeing that my grief was incurable, ideas of suicide came into my mind. I reproached myself for being only a burden to myself and every one else. I asked myself, Of what use am I, and what have I done with the advantages that fortune had bestowed on me,--youth, health, strength, wealth, intelligence, and courage? To what use had I put these precious gifts so far? To ruin all those who had loved me. Thus I resolved that in this duel with Falmouth I would blindly expose my life and respect his. I felt that in firing on him I should commit fratricide. By a strange caprice I wished to read his letter once more. Inexplicable fatality! for the first time I understood its greatness,--its imposing generosity. Then it was that I finally understood the irreparable, tremendous loss I had sustained. But alas, alas! it was now too late, all was over, the end had come. [Footnote 4: The whole of this letter is carefully erased in the Journal of an Unknown.] CHAPTER IV THE PILOT For the last few moments, the plunging of the yacht had become worse and worse. I could hear a continuous roaring, which became constantly more violent. Very soon there were flashes of lightning, followed by the deep rolling of distant thunder. Sometimes I heard the hurried steps of the sailors overhead, then again the sound was hushed, and I heard the loud voice of Williams, giving orders. I could no longer doubt of it; we were overtaken by a tempest. I could no longer remain inactive. Feeble as I was, I tried to get up, hoping that the fresh air would do me good. I rang the bell, and, with the aid of my _valet de chambre_, succeeded in dressing. I had almost completely lost the use of my left arm. I went up on deck. Falmouth was not there. The waves were furious. Though it was only four o'clock, it was so dark that I could scarcely see. On the horizon, the immense undulations of the waves were outlined against a band of gleaming light, the colour of red-hot iron. Above this strip of blazing sky, the clouds were piled in heavy masses of ochre and black; the vault of the firmament was reflected in the sea, and the waves seemed to have lost their azure or emerald transparency, and looked like solid mountains streaked with foam. The wind whistled through the ropes loudly and furiously. Though blowing a gale, the wind was hot, and the water that it raised up in solid sheets, and dashed over the deck of the yacht, was warm. Very soon the doctor came up on deck. "You are very imprudent," said he to me, "to leave your cabin."