day, until that third attack which must infallibly carry him off? It was not probable. His strength was exhausted, and in the intervals of fever he lay as one dead.
Towards three o'clock in the morning Herbert uttered a piercing cry. He seemed to be torn by a supreme convulsion. Neb, who was watching near him, terrified, ran into the next room to call his companions.
Top, at that moment, barked in a strange manner.
All rushed in immediately and managed to restrain the dying boy, who was striving to throw himself out of his bed. Spilett, taking his arm, felt his pulse gradually quicken.
It was five in the morning. The rays of the rising sun began to shine in at the windows. It promised to be a fine day, and this day was to be poor Herbert's last!
A ray glanced on the table placed near the bed.
Suddenly Pencroft, uttering a cry, pointed to the table.
On it lay a little oblong box, of which the cover bore these words: "Sulphate of Quinine."
CHAPTER XI
THE HUNT FOR THE PIRATES
Gideon Spilett took the box and opened it. It contained nearly two hundred grains of a white powder, a few particles of which he carried to his lips. The extreme bitterness of the substance precluded all doubt; it was certainly the precious extract of quinine.
This powder must be administered to Herbert without delay. How it came there might be discussed later.
"Some coffee!" said Spilett.
In a few moments Neb brought a cup of the warm infusion. Gideon Spilett threw into it about eighteen grains of quinine, and they succeeded in making Herbert drink the mixture.
There was still time, for the third attack of the malignant fever had not yet shown itself. Besides the hopes of all now revived. The mysterious influence had been again exerted, and in a critical moment, when they had despaired of it.
In a few hours Herbert was much calmer. The colonists
