But soon these violent crises subsided; hunger became only a low deep ache with the slow progressive languor of their strength. No doubt they would have succumbed if they had not had as much water as they desired. They merely bent down and drank from the hollow of the hand, and that very frequently, parched by a thirst which all this water could not quench.
On the seventh day Catherine was bending down to drink, when her hand struck some floating body before her.
"I say, look! What's this?"
Étienne felt in the darkness.
"I can't make out; it seems like the cover of a ventilation door."
She drank, but as she was drawing up a second mouthful the body came back, striking her hand. And she uttered a terrible cry.
"My God! it's he!"
"Whom do you mean?"
"Him! You know well enough. I felt
