It was a strange journey upon that silent sea beneath those silent stars, and strange thoughts came into Robert’s soul.  He wondered whether Benita would live and what she would say.  Perhaps, however, she was already dead, and he would meet her presently.  He wondered if he were doomed to die, and whether this sacrifice of his would be allowed to atone for his past errors.  He hoped so, and put up a petition to that effect, for himself and for Benita, and for all the poor people who had gone before, hurled from their pleasure into the halls of Death.

So he floated on while the boom of the breakers grew ever nearer, companioned by his wild, fretful thoughts, till at length what he took to be a shark appeared quite close to him, and in the urgency of the moment he gave up wondering.  It proved to be only a piece of wood, but later on a real shark did come, for he saw its back fin.  However, this cruel creature was either gorged or timid, for when he splashed upon the water and shouted, it went away, to return no more.

Now, at length, Robert entered upon the deep hill and valley swell which preceded the field of the rollers.  Suddenly he shot down a smooth slope, and without effort of his own found himself borne up an opposing steep, from the crest of which he had a view of white lines of foam, and beyond them of a dim and rocky shore.  At one spot, a little to his right, the foam seemed thinner and the line of cliff to be broken, as though here there was a cleft.  For this cleft, then, he steered his plank, taking the swell obliquely, which by good fortune the set of the tide enabled him to do without any great exertion.

The valleys grew deeper, and the tops of the opposing ridges were crested with foam.  He had entered the rollers, and the struggle for life began.  Before him they rushed solemn and mighty.  Viewed from some safe place even the sight of these combers is terrible, as any who have watched them from this coast, or from that of the Island of Ascension, can bear witness.  What their aspect was to this shipwrecked man, supported by a single plank, may therefore be imagined, seen, as he saw them, in the mysterious moonlight and in utter loneliness.  Yet his spirit rose to meet the dread emergency; if he were to die, he would die fighting.  He had grown cold and tired, but now the chill and weariness left him; he felt warm and strong.  From the crest of one of the high rollers he thought he saw that about half a mile away from him a little river ran down the centre of the gorge, and for the mouth of this river he laid his course.

At first all went well.  He was borne up the seas; he slid down the seas in a lather of white foam.  Presently the rise and fall grew steeper, and the foam began to break over his head.  Robert could no longer guide himself; he must go as he was carried.  Then in an instant he was carried into a hell of waters where, had it not been for his lifebelt and the plank, he must have been beaten down and have perished.  As it was, now he was driven into the depths, and now he emerged upon their surface to hear their seething hiss around him, and above it all a continuous boom as of great guns—­the boom of the breaking seas.