Leslie scarcely knew what to make of this lowering and portentously illuminated sky. He had never seen anything quite like it before; but he instinctively felt that it foreboded mischief; and he accordingly kept a sharp eye on the barometer. It was still falling, and now with considerably greater rapidity than at first. At eight bells in the second dog-watch he came to the conclusion that the time for action had arrived; and before allowing the watch to go below he ordered everything to be clewed up and furled, leaving only the fore staysail standing. Then he settled himself down to wait doggedly for developments, determined not to leave the deck until a breeze had come from somewhere. For he had a suspicion that when it arrived, it would prove to be something stronger than ordinary; and he wanted to satisfy himself as to the manner in which his jury rig would withstand such an outburst as appeared to be impending.

Hour after hour went by, however, and nothing happened; until at length Miss Trevor, whose stay on deck had been unusually prolonged by curiosity—and perhaps a dash of apprehension—bade Leslie good night and retired to her cabin, the port of which he particularly requested her to keep closed, despite the stifling heat. At length the strange and alarming glow in the heavens faded as imperceptibly as it had come, until the darkness had become as intense as before; and Leslie was beginning to think that after all nothing was going to happen, when the whole scene became suddenly illuminated by a vivid flash of sheet lightning that for an infinitesimal fraction of a second seemed to set the entire visible firmament ablaze, and caused every detail of the brig's hull and equipment to imprint a clear and perfectly distinct picture of itself upon the retina. They all listened for thunder, but none came. Suddenly, however, a few heavy drops of rain pattered upon the deck, and an instant later down came a perfect deluge with the sound of millions of small shot roaring and rattling on the deck and hissing into the sea. The rain ceased as suddenly as it had come, as suddenly as the flow of water is stopped by the turning of a tap; and for about a quarter of an hour nothing further happened. Then the sheet lightning began to quiver and flicker among the clouds once more; and presently the pall immediately overhead was rent apart by a terrific flash of sun-bright lightning that struck straight down and seemed to hit the water only a few yards from the brig. Simultaneously with the flash came a crackling crash of thunder of absolutely appalling intensity; and before its echoes had died away another flash, and another, and another, tore athwart the heavens; until within the space of less than a minute the entire vault of heaven was ablaze with flickering and flashing lightnings, steel blue, baleful green, rosy red, and dazzling white, accompanied by a continuous crash and roar of thunder that was both deafening and terrifying. This tremendous manifestation continued for about ten minutes, when down came the rain again, in an even fiercer deluge than before; and in the very midst of it, while the thunder still crashed and boomed overhead, and the rain descended in such sheets and masses that everybody gasped for breath, as though drowning, away came the wind with a howling scream that in an instant drowned even the sound of the thunder. It struck the brig flat aback; and had she happened to have had any of her square canvas set she must undoubtedly have foundered stern first. As it was, Leslie, who happened to be the only man near the wheel, sprang to it and put the helm hard over, causing her to pay off as she gathered stern-way, and thus saving the craft. But even as he stood there, in the very act of putting the helm over, a crash reached his ears out of the midst of the terrific hubbub; he was conscious of receiving a violent blow on the head; and then he knew no more.

When Leslie again recovered consciousness, his first distinct sensation was that of racking, sickening, splitting headache, accompanied by a feeling of acute soreness and smarting. He also felt dazed, confused, and harassed by a vague but intense anxiety about something, he knew not what. Then he became aware that he was lying recumbent on his back, with his head propped high by pillows; and presently he also became aware that his head was heavily swathed in bandages. He stirred uneasily, and attempted to put his hand to his head; but was shocked to find that his hand and arm felt heavy as lead, so heavy, indeed, that after a feeble effort he abandoned the attempt. As he did so, a fluttering sigh, and a whispered "Oh, thank God; thank God!" fell upon his ear; a handkerchief saturated with eau-de-cologne was applied to his nostrils; and, as in a dream, he heard a voice murmur—

"Are you better, Mr Leslie? Tell me that you are feeling better."

Feeling better! Had he been ill, then? He supposed he must have been; otherwise, why was he lying there—wherever he might be—on his back, with his head bandaged and racked with pain, and with no strength in him? Ill! of course he was; every nerve in his body bore testimony to the fact. But where was he? what was the matter with him? and whose was this gentle, tender voice—that somehow seemed so familiar—that questioned him? Everything was vague, confused, and incomprehensible, with a dominating impression that there was pressing, urgent need for him to be up and attending to something without an instant's delay.

As he lay there, painfully cogitating in a vain endeavour to disentangle the threads of mingled thought that seemed to be inextricably wound together in his throbbing, struggling brain, two warm drops splashed upon his face, and the same low voice that he had heard before, cried—

"Spare him, O God; spare him; have mercy!" and the handkerchief was again applied to his nostrils.

The tide of life ebbed back for a moment; he again sank into oblivion; and presently revived to the consciousness that soft arms were supporting him—arms that quivered and shook with the violent sobbing that fell upon his ears—while a shower of hot tears bathed his face. And then, all in an instant, recollection, vivid, intense, complete, came to him, and he opened his eyes.

For a moment he could see nothing. Then he became aware that the sun was streaming brilliantly in through the open port-hole near the head of his bunk, while a soft, warm, yet refreshing breeze was playing about his temples; and that Miss Trevor was bending over him with streaming eyes that gazed down upon him wild with anxiety and grief.

"Why, what is this? what is the matter? and why am I lying here idle when I ought to be on deck looking after the ship?" he murmured, attempting at the same time to rise.

But the imprisoning arms held him firmly down; the streaming eyes met his in an intensity of gaze that seemed to devour him; and the tender voice gain cried with indescribable fervour—

"Thank God; oh, thank God for this great mercy! You are alive! And you will continue to live. Yes, you must live; promise me that you will. Here; drink this, quickly." And she held to his lips a tumbler containing a liquid that, pungent to the taste, at once revived him.

"Thanks; a thousand thanks!" murmured Leslie, gratefully. "I feel better now. Please let me get up; I must go on deck at once."

"No; no, you must not; indeed you must not; there is no need," answered Miss Trevor; and Leslie thought he detected a tone of sadness mingled with relief in the accents of her voice.

"No need?" ejaculated Leslie; "but indeed there is need—" and then he paused abruptly; for it had suddenly dawned upon him that the brig had a distinct list to port, and that she was motionless; not with the buoyant motionlessness of a ship afloat in a calm, but with the absolute absence of all movement characteristic of a ship in dry dock, or stranded!

"Good heavens! what has happened?" he ejaculated. "Tell me, please, at once!" and he again attempted to rise.

But again his self-constituted nurse restrained him.

"Oh, please, please, do not move," she entreated. "You must obey me, now; or you will never get better. I will tell you everything; but indeed you must not attempt to rise; for, as I said just now, there is no need. The ship is quite safe; I am sure that nothing further can happen to her, at least not for some time to come; and long ere that time arrives you will, please God, be well again, and in a fit state to do whatever seems best to you."

"Nevertheless," answered Leslie, "I should like to see the carpenter, if you will have the goodness to call him to me. I perceive that the brig is ashore—though where, I have not the remotest notion; and he will be able to tell me, far more clearly than you can, exactly what has happened."

The girl leaned over Leslie, and looked down at him with eyes full of trouble.

"Mr Leslie," she said, the tears welling up into her eyes again, "I must ask you to prepare yourself to hear bad news—very bad and very sad news. I cannot bring the carpenter to you; I cannot bring him, or any other of the crew to you; for, my poor friend, you and I—and Sailor—are the only living beings left on board this most unfortunate ship!"

"You and I—the only people left aboard?" gasped Leslie. "Then, in Heaven's name, what has become of the real?"

"I cannot tell you—I do not know," answered the girl. "But if you will let me tell my story in my own way, I have no doubt that your knowledge of seafaring matters will enable you to judge with sufficient accuracy just what has happened.

"You will remember, perhaps, that on the night before last there was a terribly violent storm of lightning and thunder—"

"The night before last?" interrupted Leslie. "You mean last night, surely?"

"No," answered Miss Trevor; "I mean the night before last. You have lain here unconscious nearly thirty-six hours."

"Thirty-six hours!" ejaculated Leslie, with a groan. "Well, go on, please."

"That storm," continued Miss Trevor, "was so violent and terrifying that I found it not only impossible to sleep through it, but even to remain in my cabin. I therefore rose, dressed, and stationed myself in the place you call the companion, at the head of the cabin stairs where, sheltered by the cover, I could at least watch what was going on. Crouched there, I saw everything that happened. I saw you spring to the wheel when the gale struck the ship; I saw you felled to the deck by the falling mast; and I was the first to spring to your assistance and drag you out from the midst of the tangle of ropes and broken spars. Then the carpenter and one or two other men came running up, and they helped me to bring you down here to your own cabin, where I have been attending to you ever since, and striving, oh, so earnestly and so hard, to restore you to consciousness."

"My poor, brave girl," murmured Leslie, "what courage, what devotion you have shown!"

The young lady resumed—

"The carpenter and the others left me immediately that we had got you laid comfortably on your bed, and the lamp lighted, explaining that it was necessary for them to be on deck to take care of the ship—as I could readily understand; for the frightful roar of the wind and the violent motion of the ship bore eloquent witness to the fury of the storm that was raging outside. They accordingly retired; and I heard them close the doors at the top of the stairs and draw over the cover— to keep the water from coming down into the cabin, I suppose; for I could hear it falling heavily on the deck with alarming frequency; while the hoarse shouts and calling of the men up above were truly terrifying.

"You were quite insensible, and bleeding freely from a wound in your head," resumed the young lady; "and my first thought, naturally, was the medicine-chest that I had seen under the cabin table. I made my way to this as best I could; and, finding the book of directions, turned to the part treating of wounds, where I found full instructions how to proceed.

"Acting upon these, I carefully clipped away the hair from all around the gash; bathed the place, washing away the blood as well as I could; and then applied a dressing, as directed, securing it in place with plaster, and then swathing your head with a bandage to preserve the dressing from displacement.

"I had just completed this task, and was sitting on the box under your lamp, trying to discover some way of restoring you to consciousness, when the ship suddenly struck with awful violence against something, and I heard a crash as of a falling mast on deck, accompanied by a terrible outcry among the men. Then the ship was lifted up, to come down again with another crash, even worse than the first; then she was thrown violently over on her side, and I heard a fearful fall of water on the deck, accompanied by more rending and crashing of timber. This was continued for, I should say, quite half an hour, the shocks, however, becoming less and less violent until they ceased altogether, and the ship seemed to remain stationary, save for a slight rocking movement that eventually also ceased; and I have not since then felt the slightest movement or tremor of any kind. The gale, however, continued to rage with unabated fury until midday yesterday, when it quickly died away, and the sun came out.

"Meanwhile, I continued my efforts to restore you to consciousness, but without success. And finally, when at length the gale had passed away and the weather had again become fine, I ventured to go up on deck to see what had happened to the ship, and what had become of the men; for, to my great surprise and alarm, none of them had come near me, or made any attempt to inquire after you, from the moment when they had helped to bring you down into the cabin!"

"And what did you find?" demanded Leslie, anxiously.

"I found," answered Miss Trevor, "that the ship is lying stranded on an immense reef of rocks, and is within about two miles of land—a large island, I take it to be, for I can see the sea beyond each end of it. But that is not the worst of it. The ship is a complete wreck, both her masts being broken and lying in the water beside her, most of her bulwarks broken and gone, and not one of the crew to be found!"

"I must get up; I really must!" insisted Leslie. "Please do not attempt to keep me here," he continued, as his companion strove to dissuade him from his purpose. "I must go on deck and take a look round, if only for a few minutes, just to satisfy myself as to the actualities of our situation. If I cannot do that, I shall simply lie here and worry myself into a fever, thinking and fearing every imaginable thing."

"Well," remarked the girl, doubtfully, "if that is to be the result of confinement to your cabin, perhaps I had better yield to your wish and allow you to go on deck, just for a few minutes. But you must promise to be very good and obedient, to do exactly as I tell you, and—in short, to leave yourself entirely in my hands. Will you?"

"Oh, of course I will," assented Leslie, with an eagerness and alacrity that were not altogether convincing to his companion, who saw, however, that she would have to yield somewhat to this headstrong patient of hers if she wished to retain any control at all over him.

She accordingly assisted him first to sit up in his berth and then to climb out of it—he still being dressed in the clothes that he was wearing when the accident happened to him—and eventually, with very considerable difficulty—Leslie finding himself curiously weak, and so giddy that he could not stand without support—she contrived to get him up the companion ladder and out on deck, where Sailor accorded them both a boisterous and effusive welcome.

Arrived there, Leslie sank upon the short seat that ran fore and aft alongside the companion cover, and cast his eyes about him. It was a melancholy sight that met his view. The brig, with a list of about four strakes to port, was hard and fast upon the inner edge of a reef that seemed to be about a mile wide, and stretched for many miles in either direction, ahead and astern, she lying broadside-on to the run of the reef. The jury mainmast had snapped short off immediately above the lashings that bound it to the stump of the original spar, and had gone over the stern, some of its gear having evidently struck Leslie down as the spar fell. The foremast was also over the side, having gone close to the deck; and all the wreckage was still floating alongside attached to the hull by the rigging. The bulwarks had all disappeared save some ten or twelve feet on either side extending from the taffrail, forward, and a few feet in the eyes of the ship. The decks had been swept clean of every movable thing, including the longboat and the jolly-boat that had been stowed on the main hatch; and both quarter-boats had also vanished from the davits, leaving only fragments of their stem and stern-posts hanging to the tackle blocks to show what had happened to them.

No part of the reef showed above water, but its extent and limits were very clearly defined by the ripples and agitation—gentle though this last was—of the surface of the water above it. The surf was breaking heavily on its outer margin in clouds of gleaming white that flashed and glittered in the brilliant sunshine; and an occasional undulation of swell came sweeping in across the reef, causing a thousand swirls and eddies to appear as it traversed the vast barrier of submerged rock— coral, Leslie judged it to be—but it did not affect the brig in the least, sending not even the faintest tremor through her, by which the sick man judged that she must have been deposited in her present position at a moment when the level of the sea was considerably higher than it was just then. The craft was lying so close to the inner edge of the reef that had she been carried another fifty yards she would have been swept right over it; in which case she would undoubtedly have at once sunk in the deep-water that lay between this outer barrier reef and the island some three miles away—not two miles, as Miss Trevor had estimated the distance.

But, oh, that island! When Miss Trevor had spoken of it Leslie pictured to himself some tiny, obscure, bare atoll of perhaps a mile in length, and not more than a dozen feet high at its highest point—knowing from his reckoning that, at the time of the fatal outbreak, the brig had not been near enough any known land to render wreck upon it possible. But the land upon which he gazed with wondering eyes measured fully three miles from one extremity to the other—with a promise of considerably more beyond the points in sight. And instead of being only a few feet in height above the sea-level, it rose in a gentle slope for about half a mile from the beach of dazzlingly white sand that fringed its margin immediately opposite where the brig lay, and then towered aloft to a bare truncated peak that soared some six thousand feet into the beautifully clear air. The whole island, except some two hundred feet of its summit, appeared to be densely clad with vegetation, among which many noble trees were to be seen, some of them being resplendent with brilliant scarlet blossoms.

The fresh air had exercised a distinctly revivifying effect upon Leslie who, after some quarter of an hour's rest, felt strong enough to move about the deck, with Miss Trevor's assistance and support; and he accordingly proceeded forward as far as the galley which, to his profound satisfaction, he found to be undamaged and with all its paraphernalia intact. Then he went on to the fore scuttle—the hatch of which was on and secured. Throwing back the cover, he peered down into the dark and evil-smelling place, and called several times, without eliciting any reply. He would fain have investigated further, to the extent of descending into its interior; but his companion considered that he had by this time done quite as much as was good for him, and flatly refused to render him the least assistance toward this further adventure. He was perforce compelled therefore to abandon his intention and retreat to his own end of the ship. Here, availing himself of the support of the short remaining length of the bulwarks, he leaned over and peered down into the clear, transparent water, through which he could clearly see the white surface of the reef upon which the brig rested; and its colour and the comparative smoothness of its surface convinced him that he had been right in his conjecture that it must be of coral formation.

"Well, sir," demanded his companion, as she carefully assisted him to his former resting-place alongside the companion, "what think you of our surroundings, as a whole?"

"To be perfectly candid with you," he replied, "I regard them as decidedly promising; although I quite admit that we are in a very distinctly awkward predicament. In the first place, I fear that we shall have to reconcile ourselves to the prospect of a somewhat lengthened sojourn, for unless I have made some very serious error in my calculations—which I do not believe—we are far out of the usual tracks of ships, and our only hope, therefore, of being seen and taken off rests in the possibility that some wandering whaler may put in here for water. That, however, is a prospect upon which it will be unwise for us to reckon overmuch; and we must consequently pin our faith upon our ability to devise a means of escape for ourselves. That, in a few words, means that I shall have to set to work forthwith upon the task of constructing some craft big enough and seaworthy enough to convey us to some spot from which we can take passage home again. I see that such a prospect appears sufficiently alarming to you, and I will not attempt to conceal from you the fact that it means—as I just now said—a rather lengthy stay here. But, fortunately for us, the materials for the construction of such a craft are all here to our hand; this brig will afford us all the timber that we require for such a purpose, with plenty to spare; and I am not altogether ignorant of the arts of naval architecture and ship-building. Then we shall probably find that there is a sufficient stock of provisions still left on board here to sustain us during the period of our detention here, to say nothing of the resources of the island itself, which looks as though it might be capable of affording us an ample subsistence of itself. Then there is a beach ashore there that looks quite good enough to serve as my shipyard; with a nice little plateau adjoining it upon which I purpose to erect a tent for our accommodation—for I do not think it would be wise to remain aboard here longer than may prove absolutely necessary."

"Why," exclaimed the girl, "you appear to have planned everything out already. How fortunate I am in having you as my companion! If you had not been hurt, I suppose you would have been on deck when this disaster occurred, and the chances are that you would then have been drowned with the rest of the poor fellows; and I should have been left alone here to die miserably."

"Yes," agreed Leslie, dryly, "my accident was certainly a blessing in disguise, from that point of view. If I can succeed in getting you safely away from here, and putting you in the way of returning to your friends, I shall at least have accomplished something useful before I die."

"Oh, Mr Leslie," exclaimed the girl, "you know I did not mean that! I simply meant—well—I mean—oh dear, how am I to express myself so that you will understand? Surely you do not believe me to be such an utterly selfish and heartless creature as to be glad that you have escaped the fate of the others merely because, by so doing, you are left alive to be my helper and protector?"

"No, indeed," answered Leslie, heartily, "I assure you, Miss Trevor—" He paused abruptly, thought for a moment, and then resumed: "Look here, we have been thrown together—you and I—and our fates intermingled in a very extraordinary manner, and we are likely to remain together for some time longer in fairly intimate association, each of us the sole companion of the other. Do you not think that, under the circumstances, we might as well drop the formality of 'Mr' and 'Miss?' My name is Richard; but my friends call me Dick, and I should be glad if you would do the same."

"Very well," answered his companion, "I will willingly do so, if you really wish it; it would be only prudish to object—under the circumstances, as you put it. And you, in your turn, may call me Flora, if the name commends itself to your ear. And now, sir, please go on again from where you left off."

"Let me see," mused Leslie, "what was it we were talking about? Oh yes, I remember. You were explaining to me that you were glad I had escaped drowning not so much because of the use I could be to—"

"Ah," interrupted his companion, "I can see that you are rapidly getting better, because you are beginning to tease. But, seriously, Mr Les— well, Dick, then—I want you to tell me something more of your plans. What do you propose to do first—when you are well enough to work again, I mean?"

"The first thing I propose to do," answered Leslie, "is to overhaul the carpenter's chest and satisfy myself as to what tools are at my command. That done, I shall at once begin to break up the brig, confining myself, in the first instance, to the removal from her of just sufficient material to admit of the construction of a raft. The next thing will be to convey ashore such canvas, rope, and other matters as may be needed for the erection of a comfortable and commodious tent for our accommodation ashore; together with all necessary furniture, the galley stove, pots and pans, and all the rest of it. I am rather anxious to carry out this much of my plans with as little delay as possible; because, you see, the weather is one of those things upon which one can never depend—another gale may spring up at any moment, and when it does the brig will most probably go to pieces. I am therefore exceedingly anxious to get you comfortably established ashore before this happens. Then, if all goes well, I shall at once proceed to pull the poor old Mermaid carefully to pieces, damaging the planking as little as may be in the process, because that is the material out of which I purpose to build my boat. I shall do this, transferring it, and everything on board that may be likely to be of use to us, to, the shore before I do anything else; because, should the brig break up of herself, much valuable material is certain to be lost. Then, when I have got everything safe ashore, I shall begin upon the boat."

"I see," remarked Flora, with animation, "that we have a kind of Crusoe existence before us—a sort of perpetual picnic. Very well; I shall undertake the house-keeping part of the work; keep the tent clean and tidy; prepare nice appetising meals for you when you come home tired from your work; keep your clothes in repair; do the washing; and generally look after domestic affairs. Oh, you may smile as much as you like. I dare say you think that I know nothing about such matters; but I do; and I flatter myself that I shall astonish you."

"Yes," laughed Leslie, "I expect you will; I am fully prepared to be astonished. No," he continued, as he saw a pout rising to his companion's lips, "I did not quite mean that. True, I have before me a vision of a very charming young lady, always somewhat haughty and unapproachable, and always most elegantly costumed; who used to be the awe and admiration of everybody aboard the Golden Fleece; and I have been endeavouring—I must confess with not altogether brilliant success—to picture her doing the cooking and washing, ashore there. But I know—or at least I have been told—that woman's power of adaptability surpasses belief, and I have already seen that you possess it to a marvellous degree; therefore, despite what I said just now, I shall be astonished at nothing you do, or prove yourself able to achieve."

"Thank you," answered Flora, with a touch of annoyance in her tone. "I know I was perfectly horrid in those days—oh, how far away they seem, now—and I am afraid that I have not done much since then toward giving you a better opinion of me; but you shall see! Oh, Dick, please do not think badly of me! You have done so very much for me, and have been so invariably kind and considerate to me, that I cannot bear the idea that you should think ill of me. I owe my life to you. You must remember that I did not know you, then—"

"I know; I know," answered Dick, laying his hand reassuringly upon hers. "You acted quite rightly in keeping us all at arm's-length; for, as you say, you knew none of us then, and could not be expected to discriminate between one and another. For my own part, I would not have had you act otherwise than you did; so let us say no more about it. And now, if you will kindly help me, I think I had better go below and lie down for awhile. I must take care of myself for both our sakes."

So they went below again; and after Flora had dressed Leslie's wound afresh, the latter stretched himself out on the cabin lockers and sank into a refreshing sleep, while the girl busied herself in the preparation of such nourishing dishes, against his awakening, as the resources of the wreck afforded.

The following day found Leslie much stronger, and more like himself again; so much so, indeed, that, despite his fair companion's protestations, he set to work and got the carpenter's tool-chest on deck, and busied himself upon the light task of sharpening chisels, gouges, planes, adzes, axes, and so on; and generally putting everything in good order against the time when he would want to use them. This, with occasional periods of vest, occupied him through the whole of that day; at the end of which he declared himself to be none the worse but rather the better for his exertions.

The next day Leslie devoted to the task of lifting off the fore hatches and rigging a light pair of sheers over the hatchway by means of two pieces of the rail that he detached from the short length of bulwarks that still remained standing abaft. It was his purpose to give this part of the brig a thorough overhaul prior to attempting anything else; hoping that he might find therein something that would enable him to construct a raft without having recourse to the timber of the ship. And in this he was successful beyond his utmost hopes; for, among other matters, he found two stout packing-cases—measuring twenty feet long by three feet wide by two feet deep—containing long strips of gilt moulding, such as are used in house decoration. The moulding he carefully stowed away again—prudent man—not knowing whether in the future they might not, despite their gaudy appearance, come in useful for something. Then carefully taking the packing-cases apart, he shaped the bottom planking of each somewhat after the semblance of the bow and run of a ship—that is to say, he pointed the two square ends of each by sawing them to the required shape. Then he put the cases together again, curving the sides to fit the curves of the bottom planks; and when this was done he found himself in possession of two boat-like boxes, or flat-bottomed boats, of very respectable shape and size. These he next strengthened by nailing stout timbers, walings, and stringers to the bottom and sides, inside; when a careful caulking and paying of the seams completed them by rendering them watertight. So pleased was he with these two contrivances of his—the firstfruits of his labours—that although he had not originally intended to use them as boats, either of them was quite sufficiently large to convey himself and his companion across the tranquil waters of the lagoon that stretched between the brig and the island; and he accordingly determined that, before applying these structures to their ultimate purpose, he would make use of one of them in which to effect a preliminary exploration of the island. Accordingly he fitted the interior of one of them with a couple of seats—one in the middle for himself, and the other near the "stern" for Miss Trevor's accommodation; secured to each side a stout cleat in a suitable position, and suitably bored for the reception of a pair of rowlocks; and a length of three-inch planking sawn down the middle and shaped with a spokeshave into a pair of paddles completed the equipment of what turned out to be a very serviceable and handy boat.

The construction of these two "pontoons," as Leslie called them, together with the supplementary labour of fitting up one of them to serve as a boat, consumed nearly a week; but they were so thoroughly satisfactory when finished that their constructor regarded his time as well spent. The last item of his task, the making of the pair of paddles, or short oars, was completed as the sun was sinking below the horizon on the ninth day after the stranding of the Mermaid; and it was arranged that, if the weather held fine and the barometer continued steady, the next day should be devoted to a visit to the island.



CHAPTER NINE.

AN ISLAND PARADISE.

The next morning dawned as fine as heart could wish, with a cloudless sky of matchless blue, and a "glass" that showed a rising rather than a falling tendency. Immediately after breakfast, therefore, Leslie emerged from the brig's cabin provided with a basket of provisions neatly packed by the fair Flora's hand and daintily covered with a spotlessly white cloth. This he deposited in the stern-sheets of his boat; and then addressed Sailor, who stood at the gangway watching the proceedings with eager interest.

"Now, Sailor, come along down, boy; that's a good dog, then. Come down, you sir, I say!"

Sailor wagged his tail excitedly, and barked in response, making a great show of being about to jump down into the boat, but baulking at the last moment and looking round anxiously to see whether his beloved mistress were coming, then approaching the side again and barking a response to Leslie's blandishments, but dexterously avoiding the efforts of the latter to capture and drag him down into the boat; and so on ad infinitum At length, however, Miss Trevor made her appearance, a radiant vision in white, and armed against the assaults of the too-ardent sun with a white lace parasol—one of the many spoils of the late skipper's speculative investment—and approached the head of the side-ladder that Leslie had rigged for her accommodation. Then, as she began to descend, Sailor hesitated no longer but, fearing lest he should lose his passage, sprang down into the frail craft with an abandon that nearly capsized her, and placed himself in the eyes of the boat, obediently to a signal from Leslie's hand. Another moment and Flora had taken her place in the stern, and Leslie was bearing-off from the brig's side.

With her load of three—for Sailor was nearly as heavy as his mistress— the boat proved to be somewhat crank, and Leslie had a momentary spasm of regret that he had not tied up the dog and left him aboard the brig, instead of bringing him with them; but the water was quite smooth, and they all sat still. The passage was consequently accomplished without mishap; and in about an hour from the moment of starting they all three stood safely on the dazzlingly white beach of coral sand that stretched for about a mile in either direction from the spot where they had landed. From here the hull of the brig looked little more than a small inconspicuous spot against the snow-white cloud of surf that broke eternally upon the outer edge of the barrier reef; and Leslie made a mental note to pull off aboard again betimes in the afternoon, for it would be practically impossible to hit off her position in the darkness.

The beach on which they stood was of no great width, some sixty or seventy feet wide, perhaps, from the water's edge to the spot where it abruptly met the luxuriant growth of thick guinea-grass that seemed to form the turf of the island. Immediately opposite the spot where they had landed there stretched a clear space of this turf, measuring about a quarter of a square mile in area, entirely unencumbered by bush, or tree, or shrub of any kind. Leslie recognised this as the spot that he had already fixed upon, while aboard the brig, as the site for his camp; and his nearer inspection of it now satisfied him that it was eminently suitable for the purpose and indeed could not be improved upon. Beyond the confines of this open space, to right, left, and rear of it, shrubs and small bushes grew at first sparsely and, further on, in greater profusion, until ultimately this more or less scattered growth merged into the dense and apparently impenetrable bush and forest with which the entire island appeared to be clothed.

When Leslie's eyes had first fallen upon this island an uneasy suspicion had arisen within him that so comparatively large and important an area must almost of necessity be inhabited; and he had not been altogether free from doubt as to what, in such a case, the disposition of its inhabitants might be toward him and his companion. He had an idea that he had somewhere heard or read that the natives of certain of the Pacific islands were addicted to cannibalism; and he felt that if by any evil chance this particular island should happen to be inhabited by such a race, the cup of their misfortunes would be full. Consequently, the work of constructing his pontoons had been frequently broken into by long and anxious examinations of the island through the telescope, in a search for indications of the presence of inhabitants.

These examinations had entirely failed to reveal any such indications; and the hope had gradually arisen in his mind that, after all, the island might prove to be uninhabited. But he was not yet by any means satisfied that this hope was well-grounded, and he determined that this first visit of his to the place should be mainly devoted to a further search and examination. Before doing anything further, therefore, he suggested to Flora that they should walk the entire length of the beach—keeping to the grass as far as possible, in order to leave the surface of the sand quite undisturbed—so that he might be able to carefully and systematically scrutinise it in search of footprints. For he argued that if savages really existed on this island, they could scarcely have failed to discover the existence of the wreck during the week that she had lain upon the reef; in which case they would most probably have gathered at the water's edge, at the nearest possible point, for the purpose of examining her. And since this particular strip of beach happened to be nearer the wreck than any other point of the island, he felt tolerably certain that footprints would be found upon it, if anywhere. A strong point in favour of the assumption that the island was uninhabited was the fact that the wreck had not been approached by canoes; for Leslie felt that if she had been seen by natives, they would scarcely have left her unvisited for an entire week.

The careful and systematic inspection of the entire length of beach consumed an hour, and was without result; no human footprints were anywhere to be seen; and Leslie was confident that if any person had walked upon that sand within the week, he would have left plain indications behind him, for the wind throughout that time had been too gentle to obliterate marks of any kind, as was evidenced by the fact that the footprints of birds were everywhere clearly distinguishable. Once, indeed, he thought he had found what he sought; but upon closer inspection the signs proved to be the track of a turtle that had come up on the sand to lay her eggs, as was evidenced by the fact that the eggs themselves were found, and a few of them appropriated.

Although his investigation thus far was reassuring, Leslie was not yet by any means satisfied. He wished to obtain a much clearer idea than he yet possessed of the actual extent and general shape of his island; and the only way by which this was to be accomplished, and at the same time a general survey of it effected, was to ascend to the summit of the mountain. This promised to be a decidedly arduous task, in that climate, especially as they had been cooped up for so long a time within the narrow confines of a small vessel, with very limited space for taking exercise. But he determined nevertheless to attempt it, feeling that he could never be perfectly easy in his mind until he had done so, and they accordingly set out forthwith on their way.

Path, of course, there was none; but this was of little moment, for they knew that so long as they continued to ascend every step took them so much nearer to the summit; and they were agreeably surprised to find that the bush and undergrowth that, at a distance, had appeared to be absolutely impenetrable, was not nearly so dense as it had looked. They were consequently enabled, by adopting a somewhat serpentine route, to make very fair upward progress, although they occasionally encountered spots where a passage had to be forced, and where Flora's dainty white costume suffered somewhat.

They had not gone very far upon their way before Leslie discovered, to his great relief and satisfaction, that they certainly need have no fear of starvation, even in the event of their being doomed to remain where they were for the rest of their lives. For, as they went, fruit-bearing trees of many kinds were found in great profusion, growing luxuriantly, and many of them loaded with most luscious fruit. Mangoes, bananas, plantains, limes, custard-apples, and bread-fruit were among the varieties that Leslie recognised; and there were many others with which he was unfamiliar, and which he therefore regarded with more or less suspicion. They saw no signs of animals of any kind; but the forest seemed to be alive with birds, the extraordinary tameness—or rather fearlessness—of which seemed to argue an unfamiliarity with man.

Two hours of arduous climbing brought the adventurers to a most romantic spot, where a small stream of deliciously pure and cold fresh water gushed out from under a huge overhanging moss-grown rock, the banks of the rivulet being clothed with ferns of the most lovely and delicate varieties, while the surrounding sward was gay with flowers of strange forms and most exquisitely delicate and beautiful combinations of colouring. A huge tree, bearing large blossoms of vivid scarlet instead of leaves—which Leslie identified as the "bois-immortelle"—overhung the spot; and as the pair were by this time feeling somewhat tired and hungry, they seated themselves upon the yielding sward, and Leslie surrendering the lunch-basket to Flora, the latter spread the cloth on the grass and set out as dainty and enticing a luncheon as, supplemented by the fruit with which Leslie had filled his pockets, two hungry people need ever desire to find before them.

A narrow vista through the trees afforded the travellers a glimpse of the sea stretching blue and foam-flecked below them and right out to the horizon; and as Leslie judged from this glimpse that they must have accomplished considerably more than half their climb, the pair lingered for some time over their meal, resting their tired limbs and enjoying the loveliness of their surroundings. Then, after an interval of about an hour and a half, they again proceeded on their way, making better progress now than they did at first, as the undergrowth and trees became from this point steadily thinner as they progressed, until at length they were able to catch occasional glimpses of the summit for which they were aiming. Finally they emerged from the bush altogether, to find themselves breasting a steep slope, the soil of which was composed of fine scoriae and ashes.

"Just as I anticipated," ejaculated Leslie, as he stooped to examine the ground. "This island is volcanic; and yonder peak—the top of which, you will notice, appears to have been broken off—is the crater. But do not be alarmed," he continued, seeing a startled expression leap into his companion's eyes, "the volcano is undoubtedly extinct, and has probably been so for ages; for if you will but look around you at all this vegetation you will notice that it bears no remotest sign or indication of ever having been disturbed by volcanic action. I am not botanist enough to be able to judge the ages of those trees that we see below us; but thousands of them must be considerably more than half a century old; and as it is evident that no eruption has taken place since they started to grow, I think we may rest satisfied that no disturbance is in the least likely to occur during our occupation of the place. But let us push on; it is nearly one o'clock, and I am anxious to get up there to have a good look round and make a complete survey of our dominions."

They accordingly resumed their climb; and after a further three-quarters of an hour of arduous labour—the steepness of the acclivity and the looseness of the soil rendering progress exceedingly slow and difficult—they finally reached their goal, to find themselves standing, as it were, upon the rim of a huge basin about a third of a mile in diameter and some three hundred feet deep, the inner sides sloping almost perpendicularly, and the bottom forming a small lake. The perfectly bare sides were much too steep and the soil altogether too loose and treacherous to render an attempt at descent advisable, even had they wished it—which they did not—it sufficed Leslie that the whole appearance of the place confirmed his previous conviction that the volcano was extinct; and without wasting a second glance upon it he at once turned his attention to the scene beneath him.

They had happened, by a stroke of good luck, to hit upon the very highest point in the lip of the crater, and they were thus enabled to see, from the spot on which they stood, the entire extent of the island, to its uttermost limits; and they found it much bigger than they had anticipated.

In plan it bore a rough resemblance to a right-angled triangle, the body of which had been so twisted as to cause its apex to bear to the right. The base of this triangle, opposite to which the wreck of the brig could be seen as a tiny toy almost immediately beneath them, faced south-east, and appeared to measure between three and four miles across between its two extreme points, while the side corresponding to the perpendicular of the triangle was, according to Leslie's estimate, nearly, if not quite, ten miles long. The crater was situated not in the centre of the island, but quite close to its south-eastern side, which accounted for the steepness of the acclivity that the explorers had been obliged to climb. Northward of the crater, after the first five hundred feet of steep decline that formed the summit proper, the ground, undulating picturesquely, fell away in quite a gentle slope to the most northerly extremity of the island, which Leslie judged to be a fairly bold headland. The barrier reef, upon which the brig lay stranded, was visible with startling distinctness throughout its entire length from this point; and Leslie observed that it formed a natural and most efficient breakwater to the lagoon that stretched along the entire south-east shore of the island, curving gradually round in a crescent form until it joined the island itself at its most westerly extremity, while away to the eastward there was a deep-water passage, between the reef and the island, of about an eighth of a mile in width.

Turning his attention once more to the island itself, Leslie observed that it was wooded to its uttermost extremity, and that no beach was to be discovered in any direction save that upon which they had landed, the ground appearing everywhere else to slope precipitously to the sea, in the form of bold cliffs. And, as savages would naturally build their villages close to a beach, to secure facilities for their fishing operations, Leslie was further confirmed in his hope that his island was uninhabited; especially as he looked carefully in every direction for the smoke of fires, and found none.

Then he allowed his eyes to wander farther afield, and intently scanned the entire visible surface of the ocean, in search of a sail, but without success. He was not surprised at this; for he knew the island to be situated far out of the track of all ships, save perhaps whalers, and craft that might be driven by adverse winds out of their proper course; and although it is the first instinct of the castaway sailor to maintain a ceaseless watch for a sail, the ex-lieutenant knew that the chance of rescue for himself and his companion by a passing ship was altogether too slight to be seriously given a place in his plans for the future. Nevertheless, for a moment he entertained the idea of erecting a flagstaff on the summit and hoisting a flag upon it for the purpose of attracting the attention of any ship that might perchance pass the place; but a very brief consideration of the project sufficed to convince him that the benefit to be derived therefrom was much too problematical to justify the expenditure of so much labour and time as it would involve. Moreover he had a conviction that any ship sighting so conspicuous an object as the island in a spot shown upon the charts as clear sea, would approach and give the place an overhaul.

But although Leslie's most careful scrutiny failed to reveal any sign of the presence of ships, he was astonished to discover that there was other land in sight from his lofty lookout. He clearly saw two other eminences peering above the horizon to the westward, one bearing as nearly as possible due west, and the other about south-west, while away in the north-western quarter he believed he detected the loom of land at a very great distance. The two islands in clear view were apparently about the same distance away—a distance which, from their delicate, filmy appearance, he estimated to be quite a hundred miles; and he knew that they must be, like his own, mountainous, from the fact that they showed above the horizon.

The sun was by this time settling perceptibly in the western sky, and, lovely as was the prospect that stretched around them, Leslie felt that the time had arrived for them to be moving once more; they accordingly threw a final parting glance around them, and began the descent of the mountain. To ascend was one thing; to descend, quite another; and in a little more than an hour from the moment of leaving the summit they found themselves once more on the beach and beside their boat. Then, greatly fatigued by their unwonted exertions, but with the memory of a thoroughly enjoyable day fresh upon them, they paddled leisurely off to the brig, reaching her just as the sun was dipping below the horizon.

Their experiences of that day only whetted Leslie's—and, it must be confessed, Flora's—appetite for further exploration and adventure; the former in particular felt that he would never be satisfied until he had circumnavigated his island and critically examined every yard of its coast-line. To do this, a boat was of course necessary, or at least something of a much more seaworthy character than the "pontoon" in which he had adventured the passage to the island. And they had nothing of the kind. After Flora had retired to her cabin, however, Leslie spent an hour or so on deck, smoking his pipe and pondering upon the problem of how to supply the deficiency; and when at length he turned in, he believed he saw his way.

The following morning accordingly found him astir bright and early, eager to put his ideas into immediate execution. He first got on deck again the pontoon that he had used on the previous day, and proceeded to considerably strengthen her by the addition of further wales, stringers, and beams; and when he had got her to his liking, he proceeded to treat the other in a precisely similar fashion. Then he fitted them both with rudders. Next, having carefully disposed the two pontoons on deck, with their longitudinal centre-lines parallel and nine feet apart, he first decked them both completely in, leaving only a manhole eighteen inches square in the middle of each deck; and then proceeded to frame and fit together a thoroughly strong platform, twelve feet square, so arranged that it could be securely bolted to the gunwales of the two pontoons in the positions they occupied relatively to each other. This done, he launched the whole arrangement overboard; and found himself the proud and happy possessor of what, for want of a better and more appropriate name, he called a "catamaran;" the structure consisting, of course, of the two pontoons arranged parallel to each other, with a water space of six feet between them, and firmly and strongly connected with each other by the platform; the whole forming a very buoyant and commodious raft, capable of being rigged, and promising to behave exceedingly well under sail in smooth and even in moderately rough water. To rig this singular-looking craft with an enormous mainsail and jib was no very difficult matter, the wreckage alongside furnishing him with the requisite spars, canvas, and rigging. Each of the rudders was then furnished with a tiller; and these two tillers being connected together with a cross-piece, were controlled by a central tiller that actuated both rudders simultaneously. The construction and completion of this catamaran cost Leslie three whole weeks of arduous labour; but when she was finished he felt that the time had been well spent.

The next thing in order was to subject the craft to a sea-trial; and this Leslie at once proceeded to do. He left Flora on board the brig, with Sailor as her companion and protector, not caring to risk the girl's safety on the catamaran until the reliability and sea-going qualities of the latter had been tested; but he promised her that he would not be absent more than two hours at the utmost, when, if everything proved satisfactory, he would return and take her for a cruise; and he suggested that she might devote the interval to the preparation of a luncheon-basket to serve them for the day. Then, hoisting his sails, he pushed off, and got the craft under way.

His first act, after getting away from the brig, was to test the behaviour of the catamaran under sail by putting her through a series of evolutions, such as tacking, jibing, and so on; and then, finding that she proved to be marvellously handy, he tested her speed off and on the wind. The trade wind happened to be piping up quite strong that day, and it was therefore a very favourable occasion upon which to subject the craft to such a test as Leslie desired; and he was not only delighted but astonished at the quite unexpected turn of speed that the craft developed, this being doubtless due to the enormous spread of canvas that her peculiar form of construction enabled her to carry. She skimmed down-wind with the speed of a swallow, and was scarcely less swift when close-hauled and looking up within four points of the wind.

More than satisfied with the behaviour of his catamaran in smooth water, Leslie next headed her to the north-east, steering for the passage between the island and the reef that led to the open sea. The distance to be traversed was about four miles, and this the quaint-looking craft covered in seventeen minutes by Leslie's watch, passing in an instant from smooth water out on to a tumbling surface of sapphire-blue creaming and foaming sea, with a long and rather formidable swell under-running it. This was the sort of sea to find out for Leslie the weak points in his structure, if it had any; and for the next half-hour—while "carrying-on," and driving his craft full tilt against the sea under the heavy pressure of her enormous unreefed sails—he watched his craft carefully and anxiously, ready at the first sign of weakness to up-helm and run back to the shelter of the lagoon. But no such sign revealed itself; on the contrary, she not only stood up to her canvas "as stiff as a house," but slid along over the high-running sea as buoyantly as an empty cask, hanging to windward with a tenacity that filled her happy owner with wonder; throwing a little spray over her weather bow occasionally, it is true, but otherwise going along as dry as a bone. Her speed, too, was truly astounding; had the poor old Mermaid been all ataunto and alongside her, the catamaran could have sailed round and round her. At length, thoroughly satisfied with his trial, and fully convinced of the absolute seaworthiness of his craft, Leslie tacked—the catamaran working like a top, even in the heavy sea that was running— and, putting up his helm, bore away back for the lagoon, reaching the brig once more after an absence of about an hour and a half.

He found Flora awaiting him, attired in a good serviceable and comfortably warm serge gown—for he had warned her that she would find the strong breeze a trifle chill out at sea—and with the lunch-basket packed and ready. It was the work of less than a minute to transfer her and the basket from the deck of the brig to that of the catamaran, when, leaving Sailor to take care of the former—much to his disgust—they once more pushed off, and headed straight out for the passage skirting the inner edge of the reef, and noting, as they slid rapidly along, that this inner margin of the reef was simply teeming with fish. Then, almost before they had time to realise it, they were in the open sea once more, and heading away to the northward and westward with the mainsheet eased off to its utmost limit, and the main-boom square out to starboard. Leslie allowed himself an offing of about a mile, as this would enable him not only to get a very good general idea of the island as a whole, but would also enable him to carefully examine the coast-line.

The easternmost extremity of the island—between which and the barrier reef the deep-water passage lay—was a bold headland thickly overgrown with tall and stately forest trees, and terminating in a rocky cliff about one hundred and fifty feet high, that dipped sheer down into the sea; and beyond this, to the northward, the coast-line curved inward somewhat to the most northerly point on the island, forming what might almost be termed a shallow bay—shallow, that is to say, in point of depth of itself, but not of its depth of water, for the whole north-easterly coast-line of the island consisted of precipitous cliffs averaging about a hundred feet in height, with water enough alongside to float the biggest ship that was ever launched, if one might judge from its colour. There was no sign or possibility of a beach anywhere along here, which was comforting to Leslie, whose mind somehow still clung rather tenaciously to the idea of possible savages. But nothing mortal could by any possibility land on that eastern seaboard, nor would savages be likely to establish themselves in a spot so completely inaccessible from the sea. Moreover, the entire country, from the ridge or backbone of the island, that ran from the crater down to the most northerly point of the island, was densely covered with vegetation, showing no faintest sign of clearing or cultivation, so that Leslie began once more to feel reassured.

The most northerly point of the island was reached and rounded in some forty minutes from the moment of leaving the lagoon and bearing away round Cape Flora—as Dick insisted on naming the bold headland that formed the eastern extremity of the island. This most northerly point was, like the other, a lofty vertical cliff, timber—crowned to its very verge and descending vertically into the sea; and Flora declared that the only possible designation for it was Point Richard.

Rounding Point Richard, then, and hauling in the mainsheet, the voyagers found themselves suddenly under the lee of the land and in smooth water, save for the long undulations of swell that came sweeping up to them from the southward. They were now coasting down the western side of the island; and here again Leslie was gratified to discover that the conclusions arrived at by him during his visit to the summit were correct; there was no beach throughout the whole length of the coast-line; nothing but sheer perpendicular cliffs everywhere, although in places these cliffs rose no higher than some twenty feet above the sea-level. Finally they arrived off the south-westerly extremity of the island—which they agreed to name Mermaid Head—and found themselves skirting the outer edge of the reef, at a distance of about one hundred yards from the surf-line, lost in wonderment and admiration of the great wall of snowy foam and spray that leapt, sparkling like a cloud of jewels, some forty feet into the clear sunlit air. Then they re-entered the lagoon and ran alongside the brig—to the exuberant delight of Sailor—some three hours from the moment of starting, having had a most enjoyable sail, and satisfied themselves definitely that, since no savages existed on their own side of the island, the place must of necessity be altogether free from their unwelcome presence. And thenceforward Leslie's mind was completely free from at least that one anxiety.

And now, having provided himself with the means not only to pass freely and rapidly between the brig and the shore, but also to venture out to sea in chase of a ship, should occasion to do so arise, Leslie felt himself free to proceed with the execution of his great plan for the establishment of a dockyard ashore, and the construction of a craft sufficiently substantial and seaworthy to convey him and his companion back to the world of civilisation.

The first part of his task consisted in the erection of a spacious tent on shore for the accommodation of his companion and himself; and this he proposed to do with the aid of the old sails on board the brig, reserving the new ones and such canvas as he could find for the making of a suit of sails for the proposed new boat. He accordingly got out all the old sails, and deposited them on the deck of the catamaran, together with a quantity of cordage, blocks, and other gear, a crowbar, pickaxes, hammer, and shovel, an axe, and a number of miscellaneous odds and ends that he thought would be useful, and conveyed the whole to the shore. Then entering the woods, he selected the first nine suitable saplings that he could find, and cut them down, afterwards conveying them, one at a time and with considerable labour, to the site that he had chosen for his tent. He next dug six holes in the ground—three for each gable-end—and in four of these holes he reared four of his stoutest saplings to form the four corners of the tent, setting them carefully upright by means of temporary stays, and ramming the loose soil round about their feet until they stood quite firmly. Then, midway between the poles that were to form the gable-ends of the tent, he reared two others, some ten feet longer than the first four, these last being intended to support the ridge-pole of the structure, which he next hoisted into position and securely lashed. Then he similarly raised the eaves-poles into position and lashed them, thus completing the skeleton of the tent. The sides and ends of the structure, together with a central partition, were formed of sails, laboriously hoisted into position by means of tackles, laced to the ridge-pole, and securely pinned to the ground with stakes; and a spare main-course drawn over the ridge-pole, sloping down over the eaves, and drawn tight all round by ropes spliced into the leeches and secured to the ground with stout tent pegs, completed the whole. To prevent the flooding of the tent in wet weather, Leslie took the precaution to dig a good deep trench all round it to receive the rain-water, and from this he dug another to carry it off.

The next matter demanding attention was the furnishing of the tent. The need of bedsteads was easily met by driving four stout stakes into the ground, connected at their tops by side and end poles, to which lengths of stout canvas were attached by a lacing; and the structure was then ready to receive the mattress and bedding generally. The cabin lamp efficiently illuminated Miss Trevor's half of the tent, while a lamp taken from the steward's berth afforded Leslie all the light he needed to undress by. Then the cabin table, the locker cushions, the deck-chair, the ship's slender stock of books, and a variety of odds and ends conducive to comfort were transferred from the brig to the shore, together with the galley stove and its appurtenances; and the pair then went into residence in their new abode—which, it may be said, they found much more roomy, airy, and comfortable than their former quarters aboard the brig. The galley stove, it should be mentioned, was set up outside and to leeward of the tent, all cooking operations being conducted in the open air. The erection of the tent, from start to finish, absorbed a fortnight of Leslie's time, and involved such a lavish expenditure of labour that, could he have foreseen it, he would, as he afterwards confessed, have started much less ambitiously.

And now the ex-lieutenant found himself confronted by a truly formidable task, compared with which all that had gone before was a mere trifle. This consisted in overhauling the cargo of the brig, with the view of appropriating everything that could by any possibility prove of use to them either during their—as they hoped—temporary sojourn upon the island, or in the construction of the boat that was to take them away from it. Leslie had become aware, from remarks made by Purchas, that the brig was taking out a very considerable quantity of machinery, but this was all stowed in the bottom of the ship. On top of this there was a vast miscellaneous assortment of mixed goods of almost every conceivable description, and this it was that Leslie wished to get hold of and overhaul.

Accordingly, he one morning went off to the brig and proceeded to lift off the main hatches, disclosing to view a number of bales and packing-cases, mostly of a size and weight that it would be impossible for him to deal with single-handed. He saw that before it would be possible for him to raise even a fourth part of them it would be necessary for him to have the assistance of certain appliances, such as sheers, tackles, etcetera; but he succeeded in dragging a few of the lightest of them on deck and opening them.

The first case opened proved to contain china—a breakfast, dinner, tea, and toilet service, very handsome, and apparently very expensive. This would be exceedingly useful to them, for, to tell the truth, the brig's pantry had never been too liberally stocked; and the carelessness of the steward, combined with the heavy weather experienced by the brig, had played havoc with it. He therefore fastened up the case again and lowered it carefully over the side on to the deck of the catamaran. Then he got hold of a bale of rugs. These, he told himself, would help to make Flora's half of the tent more comfortable; and they, too, went down over the side. The next case—a small one, bearing what appeared to be a private address—contained a dainty little sewing-machine— possibly useful also to Flora. It followed the rugs. The next case that came to hand, though a large one, was unexpectedly light, so Leslie roused it on deck and opened it. It contained a number of bird-cages, such as are used for canaries. Some of them were of large size—large enough to accommodate half a dozen of the little songsters—and all were very handsome and, apparently, expensive. But they were not in the least likely to be of service, and would therefore only be in the way, so overboard they went, ruthlessly; the case itself, however, Leslie kept, as the wood and the screws might possibly be useful. There were no more packages at hand that could be manipulated without appliances, so Leslie replaced the hatches, drew the tarpaulin over them and battened it down, and then made sail for the shore.

As the catamaran ran in and grounded on the beach, Flora came down to meet him.

"Well, Dick," she said—the name came glibly enough to her lips now—"what luck have you met with?"

"Not bad," answered Leslie. "I have not been able to do very much, for the cases are mostly too large to handle without a tackle, and I have not thus far found anything that will go toward building our little ship; but I have here a set of china that will gladden your heart and replenish your pantry; some rugs for the floor of your compartment; and a sewing-machine that you may possibly find handy later on."

"And what have you brought that will be useful for yourself?" she asked.

"Nothing," answered Leslie. "The only other case that I could get at contained bird-cages—"

"Bird-cages?" she repeated, with a burst of hearty laughter. "Why, the brig must be quite a general emporium!"

"Yes," Leslie assented soberly. "I quite expect she will prove so. You see, a place like Valparaiso imports every imaginable thing from Europe; and it would not surprise me to find even pianos, watches and jewellery, as well as clothing, books, and such like among the cargo."

"Pianos?" exclaimed Flora, with delighted surprise. "Oh, Dick, if you should find a piano, please—please bring it ashore for me. I am passionately fond of music, and a piano would be such a solace to us here."

"If there is a piano in the ship you shall have it," answered Leslie. "Poor little girl! it must be horribly slow for you, cooped up here, practically alone, as you are. I am but a poor companion, I know, at the best of times; and henceforth I shall be so busy that you will be left more alone than ever. Yes; you shall certainly have a piano, if there is one in the brig."

"Now, Dick, you know I did not mean that—about your being a poor companion," answered Flora. "On the contrary, you are the very best companion that a girl in my unfortunate situation could possibly have; for you are, before and above all else, a gentleman—a chivalrous, courteous, tender-hearted gentleman, with whom I feel as safe as though you were my brother. And then you are brave, strong, resourceful, and so utterly unselfish that you amaze me—"

"There, that will do, thank you," laughed Leslie. "Do you wickedly wish to make me conceited? Because you will, if you say much more in that strain. As to 'brothers,' I hope you don't look upon me as a brother, do you?"

"Why, yes—almost," answered the girl, a little doubtfully. "Do you not wish me to regard you as a brother, Dick?"

"Um," he meditated; "of course that would be better than nothing; but— oh no; on the whole I think I have no desire that you should regard me as a brother. There, now of course I have offended you. What an ass and a cad I am!"

"You are not; you are not! And I will not have you say so," exclaimed the girl, passionately. "And you have not offended me," she went on. "It is only that I am feeling a little depressed to-day; and your—I mean—oh, I cannot explain!"

And therewith she turned away abruptly, and beat a hasty retreat to the shelter of the tent.

Leslie looked after her as though for a moment he felt inclined to follow her. Then he thought better of it, and meditatively proceeded to land the things that he had brought ashore from the brig. This done, he hunted up the axe and wandered off to the woods in search of a couple of spars to serve as sheers for working the main hatchway. The cutting down of these, the conveyance of them to the shore, and the towing of them off alongside the brig provided him with plenty of work for the remainder of the day; he therefore did not again meet his companion until the day's work was over and they sat down to dinner. It was apparent that by that time the young lady had completely recovered her spirits; but she carefully avoided all reference to the little scene that had occurred earlier in the day, so Leslie thought it best to let the matter drop, although he continued to puzzle over it for several days thereafter.

The following day saw Leslie once again aboard the brig, where he busied himself in getting his spars in on deck, converting them into sheers, fitting them, and by means of tackles and stays rearing them into position and securing them. It was a long and heavy job, occupying him the entire day, and sending him back to the island at night completely fagged out. But on the succeeding day he went off to the brig early—in fact, before Flora made her appearance—and strenuously devoted himself to the task of breaking out the contents of the main hold. He spent the entire morning in rousing cases, bales, and packages of all kinds up on deck; and after partaking of a hurried lunch he carefully opened these and examined their contents. Two of the largest he found to contain respectively men's and women's clothing; another contained books and music; a fourth contained stationery and drawing-paper; a fifth contained rolls of silk, linen, drapery, ribbons, laces, and haberdashery; and all these he lowered on to the deck of the catamaran for conveyance to the shore. Others contained rolls of wall-paper, ironmongery, photographic materials, drugs—with the properties and uses of which he was unacquainted—lawn-mowers, garden rollers, and other matters that did not appeal to him; and these he sent over the side to keep the bird-cages company. Then, when the sun was within half an hour of the western horizon, he left the brig and returned to the island with his booty.

Flora seemed greatly amused when Leslie told her what he had brought ashore.

"Why, Dick," she exclaimed, "there is enough clothing in those two cases to last us for the rest of our lives; to say nothing of that third case which you say is full of unmade silks and linen. Surely it was scarcely necessary to cumber yourself with the last, was it?"

"Who knows?" answered Leslie. "It is impossible to say how long we may be compelled to remain on this island; and I intend to save every single article and thing that may by any possibility be useful to us. I am not going to take any chances. For aught that I can tell, it may be beyond my power to construct such a craft as I have in my mind; in which case we may be compelled to remain here until—it may be years hence—a ship comes along and rescues us. I have no wish to alarm you, dear,"—it was surprising how often that term now rose to his lips, and how difficult he found it to avoid letting it slip out—"but I cannot conceal from myself—and it would be unfair to conceal from you—the possibility that we may be obliged to spend a quite appreciable portion of our lives here; and I intend to make the very fullest provision possible for such a contingency. But do not be frightened," he continued, catching the sudden look of gravity that leapt into her face; "you shall not be detained here a moment longer than I can help."

"Oh, Dick, it is not so much that," she murmured; "it is the terrible anxiety that my poor father must be suffering that worries me."

"Ah, yes," agreed Leslie; "I can quite understand the poor gentleman's feelings. Why didn't I think of that before?" he suddenly ejaculated. "Look here. I will write a message, seal it up in a bottle, and set it adrift clear of the island to-morrow. There is just a chance in a thousand—or perhaps ten thousand—that it may be picked up; and in that case, not only will your father's anxiety be relieved, but help and rescue will be brought to us. I will write my statement immediately after dinner."



CHAPTER TEN.

A DISCOVERY—AND A CONFESSION.

The statement that Dick Leslie that evening wrote ran as follows:—

"The finder of this document is earnestly requested to communicate its contents to Lloyds, the British Admiralty, the leading London newspapers, and Sir Ernest Trevor, K.C.M.G., Judge of Her Majesty's Supreme Court, Bombay.

"On the—day of —, in the year 18—, the ship Golden Fleece, Captain Rainhill, sailed from London for Melbourne, having on board, among other passengers, Miss Flora Trevor, daughter of the above-named Sir Ernest Trevor, and Mr Richard Leslie.

"On the night of the—day of —, in the same year, the ship's reckoning at noon on that day being Latitude 32 degrees 10 minutes North and Longitude 26 degrees 55 minutes West, the Golden Fleece was run into and sunk by an unknown steamer during a dense fog. The only known survivors of the wreck consisted of the above-named Flora Trevor, Richard Leslie, and a seaman named George Baker, belonging to the ship. These three persons were picked up and rescued on the following day by the brig Mermaid of London, James Potter, master, which sailed from the last-named port on the —th day of —, bound for Valparaiso.

"On the date of the rescue of the three above-named persons by the brig, Captain Potter met with an accident, from which he died on the —th day of —; and the mate, Thomas Purchas, succeeded to the command of the vessel. Then Purchas gave way to drink, and on the night of the —th day of — committed suicide by jumping overboard. Thereupon Mr Richard Leslie, who had at one time been an officer in the British navy, assumed command of the brig, with the intention of navigating her to Valparaiso. During the passage of Cape Horn, however, the Mermaid encountered contrary winds and very heavy weather, in which she was dismasted, with the loss of three of her crew. The brig was then put under jury rig, so far as the resources of the vessel permitted; but it was not of a sufficiently efficient character to permit of her being worked to windward, and a persistent succession of contrary winds drove her deep into the heart of the Pacific Ocean, where, during a gale that sprang up on the night of the —th of —, she was driven ashore, and became a total wreck on the outlying reef of an unknown island, not marked on the charts, but situate in Latitude 16 degrees 8 minutes South, Longitude 120 degrees 56 minutes West. During this gale the Mermaid was again dismasted, and Mr Leslie, who was at the wheel, was knocked down and injured on the head by the falling wreckage, in consequence of which he was conveyed below, where Miss Trevor remained in attendance upon him. He lay insensible for nearly thirty-six hours; and it was during this time that the brig struck on and was driven nearly the entire width of the reef, where she now lies. The only survivors of this disaster are Miss Trevor and Mr Leslie, who undoubtedly owe their lives to the fact that they were below when the brig struck. It is urgently requested that help be sent to them as quickly as possible, as the island upon which they have been wrecked lies quite out of the usual track of shipping, and their prospects of rescue by a passing vessel are consequently small.

"(Signed) Flora Trevor. Richard Leslie.

"Dated this—day of —, 18—."

"There," exclaimed Leslie, as he read over the completed document, "that ought to bring us help if the bottle happens to be picked up. But we must not count upon it, for it may drift about for years before it is found. However, we will do what we can to attract attention to it. A mere floating bottle is a very inconspicuous object, and may be passed within a hundred feet without being noticed; but I will pack it in a good big packing-case before sending it adrift. A floating case, especially if conspicuously marked, stands a hundred times as good a chance of being picked up as does a mere bottle."

Accordingly, on the following day, the bottle, with the document hermetically sealed within it, was taken on board the brig and carefully packed away in the centre of a large packing-case filled with fine shavings from other cases; and then the entire exterior of the case was painted black and white in a bold chequer pattern, with the words "Please open" in bold red letters on each side, and as soon as the paint was dry Leslie put it on board the catamaran, and, running some three miles to leeward of the island, launched it overboard. The case, being light, floated high, and, with its bold chequer pattern, formed a conspicuous object, calculated to attract attention at any distance not exceeding a mile. Then he returned to the brig, and, with Flora's assistance, resumed his task of breaking out cargo.

There is no need to state in detail the contents of each case and bale that they hoisted on deck; suffice it to say that the cargo, being what is known as "general," comprised almost every imaginable thing, much of it being of a character that would either conduce to their present comfort or be possibly useful to them in the future. Only a small proportion of the whole, therefore, went overboard; and since the remainder would in any case be irretrievably lost to its proper owners, Leslie had no scruples whatever in appropriating it to their own use.

The goods thus appropriated comprised an infinite variety of articles, among which may be enumerated enough lamps to illuminate a small village; a few pictures, with which they adorned the interior of their tent; household furniture of all kinds, such as bedsteads, with their bedding, wardrobes, dressing and other tables, chests of drawers, domestic utensils of every kind, cutlery, china and glass, carpets, a huge pier glass, and, to Flora's infinite delight, a magnificent Kaps grand piano. Then there was more clothing—enough to last them both for the remainder of their lives—a case of repeating rifles and revolvers, another case containing ammunition for the same, and a quantity of valuable jewellery, watches, etcetera, cases of perfumery, handsome fans, bric-a-brac—in short, a sufficiency of everything to enable them to convert their humble tent into a most comfortable, elegant, and luxurious abode.

This, however, was not all, or even their most valuable find. There were cases containing picks, shovels, and other implements, some steel wheelbarrows, a case containing a large assortment of carpenters' and joiners' tools, cases of assorted nails and screws, and a very long packing-case, which, upon being opened, was found to contain a handsome and highly finished set of spars, evidently intended for a yacht of about fifteen tons measurement. Close to this was found another case, bearing the same marks as the first, and containing two complete sets of cotton canvas sails, clearly intended for the same craft. These valuable finds not only filled Leslie's heart with immeasurable delight, but set him eagerly searching for further cases, similarly marked. Nor was he disappointed, for the next day's search resulted in his finding a third case, the contents of which consisted of a complete set of gun-metal belaying-pins and other fittings, together with a number of patent blocks, single, double, and threefold, that he had no difficulty in identifying as intended for the same craft.

"Little woman," he exclaimed, "this find is worth more than all the rest of them put together. These spars and sails will save me months of work, and shorten our term of imprisonment here by just that much. They are intended for a craft of about the size that I had in my mind, and now, of course, I shall design her of exactly such dimensions as they will fit. Are you not glad?"

"Of course I am, Dick," she replied; "I am glad of anything that will ease your work for you, for indeed you have been making a perfect slave of yourself ever since we landed here. The discovery of these things has, I suppose, relieved your mind of a great deal of anxiety; and I hope that now you will be able to take matters more easily."

"I am afraid," said Dick, "there still remains a great deal to be done before I can think of 'taking matters easily.' I must complete my examination of this cargo, for one thing; and when that is done I must begin to pull the poor old brig herself to pieces for the sake of her timber, that being the only material available out of which to build our boat."

"But surely there is no such very urgent need for hurry over all this work, is there, Dick?" remonstrated Flora.

"Oh yes, there is," insisted Dick; "for the reason that, if another gale were to spring up, the brig would most probably go to pieces, and then everything in her would be lost, excepting, of course, such matters as might be washed ashore. And the timber of which she is built would be more or less smashed up and generally made less fit for use than it will be if I am afforded time to break her up carefully."

"I see," assented Flora, thoughtfully. "In that case I suppose we had better go to work again, hadn't we?"

So they resumed operations; Dick descending into the hold and slinging the cases, one by one, and then coming on deck and taking the tackle fall to the winch, and heaving the package on deck while Flora hung on to the tail-end of the rope to prevent it slipping round the winch barrel. It was easy work for the girl, and such as she could do without becoming greatly fatigued; but for the man it was hard labour indeed, and such as sent him back to the island at night almost too weary to eat.

But a day or two later he met with a find that more than rewarded him for all his toil, and rendered a further continuance of it unnecessary. Among the first cases that he came upon was a long and heavy one, marked like those containing the spars and sails, that, upon being opened, was found to contain copper sheathing, already cut to shape and carefully marked. There was also, in the same case, a small, light, flat box, containing two drawings to scale; one being a sheer, half-deck, and body plan of a very smart, handsome, and wholesome-looking cutter, thirty-five feet long on the water-line, and ten feet beam; while the other was a drawing similarly marked to the copper sheathing, showing exactly where and how every sheet ought to be applied. Near this case was another, similarly marked, a very large case as to length and breadth, but of no great depth. Wondering what this could possibly contain, Leslie eagerly opened it and found in it the complete set of steel frames for the cutter, packed one inside the other, and each marked and figured in accordance with the sheet of plans. And finally, not to dwell at undue length upon this discovery, important though it was, he also found the keel, stem and stern-posts, rudder and trunk, deck-beams, wales, stringers, skin and deck-planking—in short, every scrap and item of material and fittings required for the little vessel; so that nothing remained but to put the whole together. A more fortunate find could by no possibility be conceived for two people circumstanced as he and his companion were.

It goes without saying that the whole of this valuable material was most carefully and promptly transferred to the beach; and as the last item of it was unloaded from the catamaran Leslie flung himself down upon the sand and exclaimed, in accents of infinite relief—

"There, that is a good job well done; and I care not now though the old hooker should go to pieces to-morrow!"

"And now," returned Flora, "you will be able to give yourself a little holiday, and take some much-needed rest, will you not? Promise me that you will, Dick, please. You have been looking very anxious and worried of late, and have been toiling the whole day through, day after day, in the hot sun. I am sure such arduous work is not good for you; and indeed I have more than once been tempted to refuse to help you, because I knew that, if I did, you would be compelled to desist. But when I saw how eager you were I thought it would be cruel; and I could not bring myself to be that, even though I felt that it would be for your good."

"You have been infinitely good to me, Flora," answered Leslie, with deep feeling—"infinitely good, and infinitely patient; while I have been impatient and exacting. In my impatience—I can see it now—I have worked you cruelly hard—"

The girl put her hand over his mouth. "You shall not say another word until you talk sensibly," she declared. "The idea of saying that you 'worked me hard'! Why, what I did was child's play; a girl of fifteen could have done it without being distressed. Please do not let me hear you say such things again!" she insisted, imperiously; immediately adding, "Now, you will promise to take a day's rest to-morrow, will you not, Dick?"

"Certainly, if you wish it," assented Leslie. "We will both take a day's holiday, and go fishing along the inner edge of the reef, shall we?"

"By all means," agreed Flora. "I have often thought that I should like a little fish, as a change of diet; I am getting most horribly tired of salt beef and pork and tinned meats. But you have been so feverishly busy that I did not like to ask you."

"Then," said Leslie, with severity, "please do not do it again. How many times must I tell you that you have only to express a wish, to have it gratified, if I can do it, before you will believe me?"

"I do believe you, Dick; indeed I do," she answered softly. "I know that there is nothing I could ask you that you would not willingly and gladly do for me if you could. You are the kindest, most generous, most chivalrous gentleman that I ever met—"

"Stop, please!" exclaimed Leslie, with a sudden fierceness of energy that frightened the girl; "you must not say such things as that, or I shall some day forget myself and—But you have not yet heard my story; I must tell it you some day, Flora; yes, the time is drawing near when it will be imperatively necessary for me to tell you my story. Then we shall see what your opinion of me will be."

"So you really have a history?" remarked the girl. "The people on board the Golden Fleece suspected as much, and freely said so; and as I have watched you from time to time, and have observed your sudden fits of melancholy, I have often thought that they must have been right in their surmise. Yes; you shall tell me your story, Dick; I shall be profoundly interested in it, I am certain; and if it is a sad one—as I more than half suspect—you shall have my whole-hearted sympathy. But, whatever you may have to tell me, it will never alter my opinion of you; you may have met with misfortune, or suffered grievous wrong, but nothing will ever persuade me that such a man as you have shown yourself to be can ever have done anything of which you or your friends need be ashamed. Tell it me now, Dick, if you will."

"No," answered Leslie, resolutely, though he longed for her promised sympathy more intensely than he had ever longed for anything else in his life; "no; I will not tell you now; the time is not yet ripe. But it will be ere long; and then I will tell you."

"So be it," agreed Flora. "Until then I can wait. And now let us go to dinner, for I see by the appearance of the cooking-stove that it is ready, and I am sure you must need it."

On the following morning, in accordance with their over-night arrangement, they got on board the catamaran after breakfast and, sailing out to the reef, anchored on its inner edge, and started to fish. They appeared, however, to have chanced upon an unfavourable spot to start with, for after about half an hour their efforts were rewarded by the capture of only four fish, so small as to be quite worthless, except for bait; Leslie therefore tripped his anchor and, setting his canvas, determined to try his luck somewhat further to the north-eastward, and nearer the entrance channel.

They had been under way some ten minutes, slipping along over the very inner edge of the reef, with the deep-water of the lagoon on their port hand, when Flora, who was peering abstractedly down into this deep, pellucid water, suddenly cried out—

"Oh, look, Dick, look; what is that huge object over there? Is it another wreck?"

"Where away?" asked Leslie, gazing out over the reef.

"Down there in the water," answered the girl, pointing to a spot over the port quarter. "I cannot see it now, because of the light on the water; but I saw it most distinctly a moment ago. We sailed almost directly over it."

"And you thought it looked like a sunken wreck?" asked Leslie.

"Yes," answered the girl; "I certainly did. It was as large as a ship, and had somewhat the appearance of one."

"Well, we will go back and have a look at it," said Leslie; and, bearing up for a moment and then putting his helm down, he tacked, bringing the catamaran round in such a manner as to pass back over practically the same ground as before. And presently they both sighted the same object again—a huge something that certainly bore some resemblance to the hull of a ship, lying submerged upon the sandy bottom of the lagoon, about fifty fathoms from the inner edge of the reef. They were too far away from it, however, to distinguish it clearly, the light reflected from the surface of the water rendering their view of it indistinct; Leslie therefore this time wore the catamaran round, and, lowering her sails, allowed her to drift gently forward with the way that she still had on her. And this time they passed right over the object, when, as soon as the catamaran was fairly clear of it, he let go his anchor and allowed his craft to drive astern again until she floated fair and square over the mysterious thing. Then, lying down flat upon the deck of the catamaran, he peered straight down into the crystal-clear water, in the shadow of the craft, and saw beneath him what was unquestionably the weed-grown hull of a ship of antiquated model, of some four hundred tons measurement. She was heading straight for the reef, with her stern pointing toward the island. And as Leslie lay there intently studying her every detail, he presently made out a stout rope cable leading from her starboard hawse-pipe toward the reef, the end of it being buried in the sand. Her posture was such as to suggest to the experienced eye of the sailor that she had driven over the reef, somewhat in the same way as the Mermaid had done; but, unlike the latter craft, had cleared it altogether and had there been brought to an anchor, subsequently sinking where she lay. She seemed to have been a three-masted ship, for Leslie could see the stumps of the fore and main masts, and believed he could make out the stump of the mizzenmast broken close off at the deck. She had the appearance of a craft of somewhere about the Elizabethan period; being built with an excessive amount of sheer and a very high-peaked narrow poop, upon the after end of which the remains of what were probably three poop-lanterns could still be distinguished. She had a slight list to starboard, and had, in the course of her long submergence, either settled or become buried in the sand to the extent of about half the depth of her hull. What her nationality may have been it was of course impossible to tell, clothed as she was in a rankly luxuriant growth of weed. Leslie carefully noted in his pocket-book the exact bearings of the wreck; and then, lifting his anchor, they resumed their fishing, their efforts being rewarded with an excellent day's sport.