flash-light from one of the pilot schooners a long way off, and the hope raised by it died away as quickly as it came. Racked with thirst and pain, and under the impression that it was impossible for me to hold out much longer, my thoughts flew back over my past life. Matters long forgotten rose up swiftly in my memory, and the acts of my whole career seemed to pass in review before me. After the past came the questions of the present and the future. Must I go now, and was I fit to die? [Illustration: boat near shore] [Illustration: Decoration] CHAPTER VIII. MORNING. “See, the day begins to break, And the light shoots like a streak Of subtle fire. The wind blows cold, While the morning doth unfold,”—_Fletcher_ At length—and what a length—the day began to dawn, and with it came renewed hope that I might be rescued. As the welcome light crept slowly in I kept straining my eyes, when I got a chance on top of a sea, for some signs of my shipmates, but in no direction could I see the slightest trace. Had they been picked up? Had they reached the shore? or had they, unable to withstand the tossing and exposure during the fearful night, all been drowned? The sight of even one of them would have helped to revive my drooping spirits. Whilst it was dark night I clung to the thought that although I could not see my mates, still some of them might be near me. Now, however, I realised that I was alone amidst the seething waters. Then I remembered that when darkness closed in on the previous day the majority of my companions were a good distance inshore of me, and it was just possible that they had got safely to land. This reflection helped me to make up my mind to struggle on while there was a bit of life left in me. A number of albatrosses now began to hover around, and two of them swooped down close to my head. I raised my arms as well as I could and thereby succeeded in frightening them away. Seeing me lying on the boards I dare say they thought I was dead! By the time daylight came thoroughly in I was able to see the land stretching along at no great distance off. I think it must have been about 5 a. m. when I found myself right abreast of the Schanck with a strong current sweeping round it and setting me towards the Heads. The tide, wind and sea all bore directly on my raft and seemed to be taking me rapidly nearer the shore.