And so I pulled as though an empire hung upon my efforts. How much longer would this last? Half-past four, and we had pulled a little over a mile, and must rest. Fastening my oar, I threw myself flat upon the bottom of the boat. Bobby fell beside me, and with throbbing hearts we lay there. Every breath that I drew gave me pain; a mist came before my eyes; the world seemed to whirl and circle in a mad dance about me; the river sucking at the boat seemed to my fevered brain to be a thing of life; the dark trees upon the banks seemed to beckon to me, as though a company of cloaked monks. Afar down the east, a light streak was beginning to broaden, the sun was about to rise. Aboard the vessel all was bustle and hurry; they were preparing to hoist sail, and at the thought I tottered to my feet, and bent once more to the oar. By hard work we made another mile; it was five o'clock now, and we were still some distance from the ship. There was no use to work longer. "Bobby," I muttered weakly, "the ship must have gone--let us rest." "No," he answered, "pull! It will wait for us a moment--pull, man! we may yet reach it," and he redoubled his efforts. I bent again to the oar, though it seemed as though my exhausted arms would wrench from their sockets at each stroke. Around me danced the river; the roar of the ocean was in my ears; little specks of fire glimmered in front of my very eyes. How long was a mile?--a mile--a mile--I had forgotten why we rowed so madly, I only knew that something terrible would befall us did we not reach a place, I knew not where, by five o'clock. Bobby was speaking: "It is past five o'clock now, and we are nearly there." "Yes, nearly there," I repeated vacantly; "nearly there." Where was "there"? The sun was rising like a ball of flame; red and angry, he was preparing for another day, and he scowled down upon us with threatening look, as though we had wronged him, and he but waited to avenge himself. We turned a curve in the river--there, nearly a quarter of a mile away, by the side of a dock lay a great vessel, her decks alive with men. She was about to spread her white sails, and fly out into the trackless ocean; even as we looked, she came slowly around, and, the wind filling her great sheets of canvass, began to move slowly through the water. Bobby dropped the oar and sprang to his feet. "It is our ship!" he cried. And then he raised his voice and shouted with all his might, I joining him, but in vain; we were too weak from our long efforts, and our voices could not reach the ship. I waved my doublet above my head, and Bobby, putting his cap upon his oar, moved it backward and forward, hoping to attract their attention. But no sound came from the vessel, steadily she kept on her way to join her two consorts at the mouth of the river.