nights, with bloodshot eyes and smarting lids, on which sleep pressed heavily, with throats once more dry as baked clay and tongues shrunken and hard—both horrible spectacles, with their skins drawn and of a greenish blackness, all inhuman.
Treachery and murder filled both hearts, and kept them from looking directly at one another, yet they were watching who should drop first for all that. They could not converse, for they had lost their voice, and only a hoarse and unintelligible rattle was produced when they made the attempt.
The want of sleep was making rapid havoc with their bodies and minds, occasionally an imbecile grin contorted their shrunken jaws as for an instant they forgot where they were, then they picked themselves together with a superhuman effort, and became all the more alert.
To grow delirious would be almost as bad as to fall asleep. Dennis grinned the oftenest on the second day's vigil; his body was stronger, and therefore made more savage demands for sustenance, while the doctor had been trained to do with little sleep and long intervals between. His mind also was the most crafty and self-controlled.
On the afternoon of the second day a subtle thought entered his brain. The two rum bottles still remained untouched at the bottom of the boat amongst the water that covered it. He would open one of these, and pretend to drink, knowing that Dennis must follow his example; and surely that, with the awful heat, would send him off.
Quietly, therefore, he reached down his hand and seized one of the bottles, his every action watched by his companion
