the same time with us. At last, she was heaved up for a moment well in view, and. there, sure enough, was the signal Hying abroad of her—a strip of rag of some sort, rigged to an oar, and hoisted in her bows.
"What does it mean?" says Rames to me in a quavering, trembling sort of a voice. "Do they signal a sail in sight?"
"Hush, for God's sake!" says I, clapping my hand over his mouth. "Don't let the people hear you. They'll all go mad together if we mislead them about that signal. Wait a bit till I have another look at it."
I held on by him, for he had set me all of a tremble with his notion of a sail in sight, and watched for the long-boat again.
Up she rose on the top of another roller. I made out the signal clearly, that second time, and saw that it was rigged half-mast high.
"Rames," says I, "it's a signal of distress. Pass the word forward to keep her before the sea, and no more. We must get the long-boat within hailing distance of us as soon as possible."
I dropped down into my old place at the tiller without another word—for the thought went through me like a knife that something had happened to Captain Ravender. I should consider myself unworthy to write another line of this statement, if I had not made up my mind to speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth—and I must, therefore, confess plainly that now, for the first time, my heart sank within me. This weakness on my part was produced in some degree, as I take it, by the exhausting effects of previous anxiety and grief.
Our provisions—if I may give that name to what we had left—were reduced to the rind of one lemon and about a couple of handfuls of coffee-berries. Besides these great distresses, caused by the death, the danger, and the suffering among my crew and passengers, I had a little distress of my own to shake me still more, in the death of the child whom I had got to be very fond of on the voyage out—so fond that I was secretly a little jealous of her being taken in the long-boat instead of mine when the ship foundered. It used to be a great comfort to me, and I think to those with me also, after we had seen the last of the Golden Mary to see the Golden Lucy, held up by
