Rescue in time is certain, and, therefore, while we live there is hope." "Ay," said Burnley, "for you tew but not for me.

Yow telt the men that I fired t' mine, and if one of those men gets free they'll all tear me limb from jacket.

Why should I leave one grave to walk into another?
But for yow I should have been away six days agone." "Man," said Hope, "can not you see that my hand was but the instrument?
it was the hand of Heaven that kept you back.

Cease to blame your victims, and begin to see things as they are and to repent.

Even if you escape, could the white faces ever fade from your sight, or the dying shrieks ever leave your ear, of the brave men you so foully murdered?
Repent, monster, repent!" Burnley was not touched, but he was scared by Hope's solemnity, and went to his own corner muttering, and as he crouched there there came over his dull brain what in due course follows the horrible meal he had made--a feverish frenzy.
In the meantime Grace, who had been lying half insensible, raised her head slowly and said, in a low voice, "Water, water!" "Oh, my girl," said Hope, in despair, "I'll go and get enough to moisten your lips; but the last scrap of food has gone, the last drop of oil is burning away, and in an hour we shall be in darkness and despair." "No, no, father," said Grace, "not while there is water there, beautiful water." "But you can not drink _that_ unfiltered; it is foul, it is poisonous." "Not that, papa," said Grace, "far beyond that--look! See that clear river sparkling in the sunlight; how bright and beautiful it shines! Look at the waving trees upon the other side, the green meadows and the bright blue sky, and there--there--there--are the great white swans.