Then to the pain of hunger was added the pain of thirst, for the
water barrels were emptied to the last drop. Unable to endure the
torture some drank the sea, water and so died in madness. Beneath
the burning sun every timber of the crazy little ship warped and
started, and on all sides the sea flowed in. Still through all
their agony the men clung to life. And sick with hunger, maddened
with thirst as they were they laboured unceasingly bailing out
the water. But they laboured now with despair in their hearts, and
they gave up hope of ever seeing their beloved France again. Then
at length the pitiless sun was overcast, a wild wind arose, and
the glassy sea, whipped to fury, became a waste of foam and angry
billows. The tiny vessel was tossed about helplessly and buffeted
this way and that.
"In the turning of a hand," says an old writer, "the waves filled
their vessel half full of water, and bruised it upon one side."
The wretched men now gave themselves up for lost. They cared no
longer to bail, but cast themselves down into the bottom of the
boat, and let it drift where it would. Only one man among them did
not utterly lose heart. He set himself now to encourage the others,
telling them that if only the wind held, in three days they would
see the shores of France.
This man was so full of hope that at length he aroused the others
from their despair.
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