I had been nearly forty-eight hours without food or drink, and strained on the edge of death every moment of that time.

It was but the remnant of a man that lay like a rag across the spar, and he looked only for death, and yet by instinct clung to life.
And when my weary eyes lifted themselves to look dully round, there, like a white cloud of hope, came life pressing gloriously towards me--a pyramid of snowy canvas, dazzling in the sunshine, the upper courses of a very large ship.
She was still a great way off, but I could see down to her lower foretop-gallant sail, and to my starting eyes she seemed to grow as I watched her.

She was coming my way, and I have little doubt that, in the weakness of the moment and the sudden leap of hope when hope seemed dead, I laughed and cried and behaved like a witless man.

I know that I prayed God, as I had never prayed in my life before, that she might keep her course and come close enough for some sharp eye to see me.
Now I could see her fore and main courses, and presently the black dot of her hull, and at last the white curl at her forefoot, as she came pressing gallantly on, just as though she knew my need and was speeding her best to answer it.
While she was still far away, I raised myself as high as I could on my spar and waved my rag of sail desperately.

I tried to shout, but could not bring out so much as a whisper.