How long he won, he will never know; the
sun was in the west, a red ball of fire showing dimly through the cloud,
and all about the same dancing expanse of sea, drear, and dead. The raft
rose and fell, rose and fell, so monotonously as to lull his
consciousness imperceptibly; his head drooped forward, and with fingers
still automatically gripped for support, he fell sound asleep also.
The raft drifted aimlessly on, the waves lapping its sides, and tossing
it about as though in wanton play. The currents and the wind held it in
their relentless grip, and bore it steadily forward, surging along the
grey surface of the sea. The girl lay quiet, her face upturned,
unconscious now of her dread surroundings; and the man swayed above her,
his head bent upon his breast, both sleeping the sleep of sheer
exhaustion. Out of the dim mist shrouding the eastern sky the vague
outline of a distant steamer revealed itself for a moment, the smoke from
its stacks adding to the gathering gloom. It was but a vision fading
swiftly away into silence. No throb of the engines awoke the unconscious
sleepers; no eye on the speeding deck saw the low-lying raft, or its
occupants. The vessel vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, leaving
nothing but a trackless waste of sea. The two slept on.
It was the startled cry of Natalie that roused West, and brought his
drooping head, upright. She was sitting up, still held safely by the coil
of rope, and pointing excitedly behind him.
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