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<SPAN name="chap35"></SPAN> <h3>Chapter Thirty Five.</h3> <h4>Waiting for Death.</h4> <p>For several minutes the wretched castaways of the <i>Catamaran</i> remained in their perilous position,—almost motionless in the midst of the deep blue water,—precariously suspended upon its surface,—suspended between life and death!</p> <p>Under any circumstances the situation would have been trying to the stoutest nerves,—even under circumstances where a hope of deliverance might have been indulged in. Without this it was awful.</p> <p>Neither black man nor white one any longer contemplated the <i>danger</i> of death: both believed in its <i>certainty</i>.</p> <p>How could they doubt it?</p> <p>Had either been standing upon the scaffold, with the condemned cap drawn over his eyes and the rope adjusted around his neck, he could not have felt surer of the nearness of his end.</p> <p>Both believed it to be simply a question of time; an hour or two,—perhaps not so much, since the fatigues and struggles through which they had just passed had already made sad inroads upon their strength,—but an hour or two at most, and all would be over. Both must succumb to the laws of Nature,—the laws of gravitation,—or rather of specific gravity,—and sink below the surface,—down, down into the fathomless and unknown abysm of the ocean. Along with them, sharing their sad fate, Lilly Lalee,—that pretty, uncomplaining child, the innocent victim of an ill-starred destiny, must disappear forever from a world of which she had as yet seen so little, and that little of the least favourable kind.</p> <p>Throughout the whole affair the girl had shown but slight signs of the terrible affright that, under the circumstances, might have been expected. Born in a land and brought up among a people where human life was lightly and precariously held, she had been often accustomed to the spectacle of death,—which to some extent robs it of its terrors. At all events, they who are thus used appear to meet it with a more stoical indifference.</p> <p>It would be a mistake to suppose that the girl appeared indifferent. Nothing of the sort. She exhibited apprehension,—fear sufficient; but whether her mind was overwhelmed by the extreme peril of the situation, or that she was still ignorant of its being extreme, certain it is that her behaviour, from beginning to end, was characterised by a calmness that seemed supernatural, or at all events superhuman. Perhaps she was sustained by the confidence she had in the brace of brave protectors swimming alongside of her,—both of whom, even in that extreme hour, carefully refrained from communicating to her the belief which they themselves in all fulness entertained,—that their lives were fast approaching to a termination.</p> <p>The minds of both were fully imbued with this conviction, though not in the same degree of fulness. If possible, the white man felt more certain of the proximity of his end than did the negro. It is not easy to tell why it was so. The reason may, perhaps, be found in the fact, that the latter had been so often on the edge of the other world, had so often escaped entering it, that, despite the impossibility of escaping from his present peril,—to all appearance absolute,—there still lingered in his breast some remnant of hopefulness.</p> <p>Not so with the sailor. From the bosom of Ben Brace every vestige of hope had vanished. He looked upon life as no longer possible. Once or twice the thought had actually entered his mind to put an end to the struggle, and, along with it, the agony of that terrible hour, by suspending the action of his arms, and suffering himself to sink to the bottom of the sea. He was only restrained from the suicidal act, by the influence of that instinct of our nature, which abhors self-destruction, and admonishes, or rather compels us, to abide the final moment when death comes to claim us as its own.</p> <p>Thus, by different circumstances, and under different influences, were the three castaways of the <i>Catamaran</i> sustained upon the surface of the water,—Lilly Lalee by Snowball,—Snowball, by the slightest ray of hope still lingering in a corner of his black bosom,—the sailor by an instinct causing him to refrain from the committal of that act which, in civilised society, under all circumstances, is considered as a crime.</p> <hr /></div> <div class="bodytext"> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />

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