94 THE SHIPWRECK,

shall the hand of friendship be extended to me; never
again shall these eyes behold my dearest mother. Yet
there is one here who dwelled in the land of my childhood—
who reposed under the same delicious bowers. O! my
mother, he has seen you; he knows you: why does he not
come to receive my last wish—to tell you one day—to tell
my father too, that I did not die without thinking of you?
But he—no, never !—I have no friend but my dog: poor
animal ! your fidelity, what avails it? you can do nothing
for me !”

The count, oppressed by the intensity of the heat, and
totally unable to drag himself any further, entered his
cavern, and would have quitted it at the same moment, so
dense and suffocating was its atmosphere, but his limbs
were no longer obedient to his will, and he fell to the
ground in a state of utter helplessness. Considerations of
the most solemn and awful nature began to affright him.
He felt that he was about to die, and he knew that he was
unprepared to meet death. The consoling truths of Chris-
tianity, which from his early childhood had been deeply
impressed upon his understanding, now absorbed his reflec-
tions. If not impious, he had been, like the generality of
the young, the thoughtless and the vain, indifferent, at
least, to the observances of his religion. But at this de-