At such times the young inventor could not avoid a chill of horror, so ghostly and supernatural did the buccaneers look.
Some time elapsed.
It seemed an age to Frank.
He speculated upon his chances in a methodical sort of way and gave himself up to somewhat morbid reflection.
After all, his worst fate could only be death. It must come to him some time. Drowning was, after all, not the worst form.
Again the suicidal mania threatened him. Especially was this the case when he reckoned the hopelessness of his position.
After a time, however, reaction was bound to set in.
Life never seemed to have a more rosy hue. It would seem a transition into paradise to reach the upper world.
With this came a desperate sort of hope.
Why not make a supreme effort?