During a part of this terrible night, he hears the frail frame-work which supports him cracking beneath his feet.

How long must his sufferings last?
He knows not.

At last, jostled by adverse waves, shaken to its centre, the raft begins to whirl around, and something heavier than the shock of the wave comes repeatedly to give it new and rude blows.

The first rays of the rising moon, far from calming the terrors of the unhappy mariner, increase them.

In his dizzy brain, these wan rays which silver the surface of the sea, seem so many phantoms coming to be present at his last moments.