Their effort to talk to each other ceased gradually; there was so little they could say in the presence of the growing peril surrounding them.  They had become the helpless sport of the waves, unable to act, think or plan, surrounded by horror, and aimlessly drifting toward the gloom of another night.  Wearied beyond all power of resistance, the girl sank lower and lower until she finally lay outstretched in utter abandonment.  West thrust his coat beneath her head, securely binding her to the raft by the rope’s end, and sat beside her dejectedly, staring forth into the surrounding smother.  She did not speak, and finally her eyes closed.  Undoubtedly she slept, but he made every effort to remain awake and on watch, rubbing his heavy eyes, and struggling madly to overcome the drowsiness which assailed him.  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.

“Oh, see there!  Look where I point—­isn’t that land?”

The raft rocked as he swung his body hastily about, and gazed intently in the direction indicated.  Land! of course it was land; land already so close at hand, his eyes could trace its conformation—­the narrow strip of sand beach, the sharp bluff beyond, the fringe of trees crowning the summit.  He rubbed his eyes, scarcely able to credit his sight, half believing it a mirage.  Yet the view remained unchanged; it was land, a bit of the west shore, a short promontory running out into the lake toward which the raft, impelled by some hidden current, was steadily drifting.  His arm clapped the girl in sudden ecstasy.