This was our second night of horror, but very different in its nature from the first. Then, for long hours, we went in fear of the storm; now, we would have welcomed the most terrible tempest that ever blew, if only it brought us rain. Very slowly the night crept by, and again we were confronted by the gray haze, with its curious blood-red tint. We could not escape from the vessel, as our boats had been smashed in the hurricane; we could only wait for what might happen in this sea of the dead. "Rain or death, it is one or the other!" remarked Jose, as, rising to our feet, we staggered across to the skipper. Rain or death! Which would come first, I wondered. The captain could do nothing, though I must say he played his part like a man--encouraging the crew, foretelling a storm which should rise later in the day, and asserting that we were right in the track of ships. We had only to hold on patiently, he said, and all would come right. Jose also spoke to the me cheerfully, trying to keep alive a glimmer of hope; but as the morning hours dragged wearily along, they were fain to give way to utter despair. No ships could reach us, they said, while the calm lasted, and not the slightest sign of change could be seen. Our throats were parched, our lips cracked, our eyes bloodshot and staring. One of the crew, a plump, chubby, round-faced man, began talking aloud in a rambling manner, and presently, with a scream of excitement, he sprang into the rigging. "Sail ho!" he cried, "sail ho!" and forgetting our weakness, we all jumped up to peer eagerly through the gauzy mist. "Where away?" exclaimed the captain. The sailor laughed in glee. "Oho! Here she comes!" cried he; "here she comes!" and, tearing off his shirt, waved it frantically. The action was so natural, the man seemed so much in earnest, that we hung over the schooner's side, anxiously scanning the horizon for our rescuer. Again the fellow shouted, "Here she comes!" and then, with a frenzied laugh, flung himself into the glassy sea. A groan of despair burst from the crew, and for several seconds no one moved. Then Jose, crying, "Throw me a rope!" jumped overboard, and swam to the spot where the man had gone down. "Come back!" cried the skipper hoarsely; "you will be drowned! The poor fellow has lost his senses." But Jose, unheeding the warning, clutched the man as he came to the surface a second time. We heard the demented laugh of the drowning sailor, and then the two disappeared--down, down into the depths together. "He has thrown his life away for a madman!" said the captain, and his words brought me to my senses. With a prayer in my heart I leaped into the sea, hoping that I might yet save the brave fellow.