A considerable amount of the property of the gang, which they had not time to remove, was seized when they left their chief stronghold and place of rendezvous on the coast, where they had long defied the vigilance of the revenue officers, and many of them were driven away from the coast. The entrance to the cave from the sea was carefully blocked up, so that no one could again undermine the Tower, and attempt to play off such tricks on the inmates.

Mr Ludlow, accompanied by Stephen, rode over to the Tower to congratulate his tenants on the recovery of their daughter. "I am very glad to see the young lady back, and safe, and well; but," he added, "I have a bone to pick with her. What do you think, captain? She has actually been endeavouring to persuade my only son to go to sea, that he may spend his life in searching for your poor boy, whom she asserts is still alive in some island of the Pacific, either in consequence of reading a child's book, or from some cock-and-bull story which she heard from an old sailor one day, who was never afterwards to be found to corroborate the truth of his narrative. I wish bygones to be bygones, and I would rather not have alluded to the subject, but I really do not know what powerful influence she may exert over him, though I cannot say that at present he has any fancy for the undertaking; but I wish, at all events, to nip the project in the bud."

As may be supposed, Captain Askew was not a little astonished at this address, while he could not but be sensible of the want of feeling of the man who could thus coldly speak of his long-lost son, that son who had been banished in consequence of Mr Ludlow's own stern decree. "I was not aware that my little Margery entertained any such notion," he answered mildly. "Did she, I should have supposed that your son, Stephen, however much she may esteem him as a friend, was the very last person she would have selected for the scheme."

"Oh, the foolish boy lent her a book, a copy, I believe, of Defoe's 'Robinson Crusoe,' and as he describes a person living on an island for a number of years by himself, she has taken it into her head that her brother may have escaped shipwreck, and be still alive on one of the many islands which I understand stud parts of the Pacific."

"I have only to repeat that my daughter has not mentioned the subject to me, and I will undertake that she does not induce your son to act contrary to your wishes," answered Captain Askew.

"Very well, neighbour, I will trust to your word," said Mr Ludlow, in his usual supercilious manner, which, to a man of a temper less mild than the captain, would have been very galling. "I, of course, have other designs for him than to lead the life of a sailor."

When Mr Ludlow and Stephen had taken their departure, he could not help repeating to himself, "he may be alive on one of the many islands which stud parts of the Pacific. The sailor's story may be true, or it may be only dear Margery's fancy. It is but natural that she should indulge in it; I would that I had health and strength, and the means to go out and search for the dear boy—dear whether alive or dead."

That evening the captain spoke of their boy to his wife. He would not venture to raise her hopes. He scarcely hinted at the possibility of his having escaped from the wreck, and yet he spoke of such things having happened to others. Margaret's reply was, "God's will be done. He knows what is kept for us in all respects."

In the meantime, Stephen had told Margery that his father objected decidedly to his becoming a sailor, that he might go and look for her brother Jack; an announcement which the young lady received with much dignity, and an expression of contempt on her pretty countenance which it was not wont to wear.

"Of course, Mr Stephen Ludlow, you are right in doing what your father wishes," she observed; "and now I think over the matter you are not at all fitted to become a sailor. Sailors are true friends—generous, brave, kind, and liberal; I was mistaken when I supposed that you were likely to possess those qualities. Good-bye. I do not want to quarrel with you, but now you know what I think."

Margery was not aware how severe her words might have sounded. Stephen did not fully understand their meaning, but he felt very sheepish, and had an idea that it would probably be some time before he again paid a visit to Stormount Tower. Margery had, however, far from abandoned her idea. She had for some time naturally thought that Charley Blount would be the proper person to perform her behests, and she felt certain that he would very gladly undertake the task she might assign him. She put the matter before him, and to her great delight he at once undertook her mission.

"I cannot say that your brother Jack is alive," he observed; "but this I promise, that if he is I will do my utmost to find him and bring him home."



CHAPTER TEN.

CHARLEY GOES TO SEA—A GALLANT COMRADE—COOLNESS OF ISLANDERS—THE SAVAGES.

"May Heaven bless and prosper you, my boy!" said Captain Askew, as Charley Blount was prepared to start for Liverpool, where he expected to get a berth on board some ship bound for the shores of the Pacific. He had letters of introduction to Jack's old friend, now Captain Cumming, who resided at Birkenhead, on the other side of the Mersey, and to other friends of Captain Askew, so that his way would be likely to be made smooth.

His parting with the inmates of the Tower need not be fully described. Neither Mrs Askew nor Margery dared trust themselves with words. Becky gave him a hug, such as he was not accustomed to receive as she whispered, "Bring him back, Mr Charley, bring him back, oh do!"

"If the lad's above board you'll find him out, I know you will, Mr Charles," said old Tom, heartily wringing his hand. He modestly replied that he would do his best; and that, with a person of spirit and energy, signifies a good deal.

He was not going altogether without pecuniary means. Captain Askew had raised every shilling he could for the undertaking, and he felt sure that Captain Cumming would get friends at Liverpool to help him yet further. He soon reached that city, and when his object became known, although many declared that it was visionary, he had, from the liberality of merchants and others, ample supplies placed at his disposal, which he was to employ as he considered best. He without delay obtained a berth on board the Southern Cross, Captain Harper, as fourth mate, with the understanding that he should be allowed to quit the ship after she had reached the coast of Peru, where she was to take a fresh cargo on board.

The Southern Cross was a well-found ship, Captain Harper, an upright man and a good seaman, and with the other officers and the crew, Charley was on his first acquaintance tolerably well pleased.

He enjoyed the sensation, which few but seamen can enjoy after some time spent on shore, when he once more trod the deck moved by the buoyant waves, as the good ship pursued her southward course over the Atlantic, and he thought of the enterprise in which he was engaged. Most of his shipmates, as many people on shore had done, thought his undertaking preposterous, and said that to search for a lad he had never seen, among the thousand and one isles of the Pacific, and who probably had been drowned, or eaten by the savages years ago, was more ridiculous than looking for a needle in a bundle of hay. Charley, however, kept, if not to his own opinion, to that which Margery, at all events, entertained, and got two young shipmates, midshipmen, to join him in it. Hugh Owen, an enthusiastic Welshman, and Edward Elton, a quiet and unpretending English lad who had been three years at sea. He was pale-faced and small of his age, his eyes were blue and his features regular, and in a crowd he would have been the last selected to do a daring deed; and yet no bolder or braver lad was to be found on board, and there was no act of heroism of which those who knew him would not have believed him capable.

Charley Blount was not much senior to either of the lads, but having been to sea longer, was their superior in rank. Off duty he treated them as equals, and the three young men soon formed a sincere friendship for each other.

The Falkland Islands were visited to obtain a supply of fresh provisions and water, and then the ship steered west round Cape Horn into the Pacific. Just, however, as that mighty headland was sighted there sprang up a fierce gale from the westward, which drove the Southern Cross back into the Atlantic, the huge billows rising up like mountains to bar her progress. But her captain well knew that perseverance alone could overcome this as it can conquer most difficulties, and she was kept under close-reefed sails, now with her head to the south, now to the north, ready to take advantage of any slant of wind which might enable her to work her way to the westward. The wind had fallen, and once more sail was made.

It was night, and Charley Blount had a watch on deck, when without warning down came the gale on the ship with greater fury than before. With a crack like a clap of thunder the main-topgallant-yard parted and hung by the lifts, dashing furiously against the topsail, and threatening to carry away the topmast. "It is my duty to clear that," exclaimed Charley, not waiting to be ordered or asked to go, for it was a task of the greatest peril, which only volunteers alone would be expected to attempt. Seizing an axe, he flew aloft.

"Heaven protect the bold fellow!" exclaimed the captain, who had hurried on deck.

Young Elton had also come, up from below. One part of the task was done when Charley's axe was torn from his grasp, and he was seized by the coils of a loose rope, lashing furiously, while the remaining part of the spar came whirling round his head. His terrific position could be seen from the deck, and the great danger any one would incur in going near him could be equally well perceived. Not a moment, however, did young Elton hesitate. Scarcely had the accident happened than he was flying up the ratlines amid the clouds of spray which drove across them. The ship was heeling over and pitching into the seas as if never to rise again, the masts were bending and straining, and the broken spar was flying round, now in one direction, now in the other, and threatening to render the brave young Elton's attempt useless, by hurling Charley Blount to destruction before he could release him, while the least want of vigilance would have proved equally fatal to himself. He had, amid the darkness of the night and the heeling of the ship to watch the movements of the threatening spar, and to dart forward as it receded and left a spot for an instant free from its attacks. His first aim was to release Charley, whom the rope was encircling every instant more closely in its deadly embrace. He watched his opportunity; he sprang along the yard, and with two blows of his axe the rope was severed, and Charley was released, and able to join him in the still more difficult task of clearing away the broken spar. Together they climbed the mast. "Stand from under!" was the cry, but there was no need of it. Again their sharp axes were at work; the spar fell clear of the ship into the foaming ocean, the topmast was saved, and loud cheers greeted the young seamen as they descended safely on deck.

This incident united Charley Blount and Elton in still closer friendship, and gained the support more completely of the enthusiastic Hugh Owen, who became now more than ever eager to follow their fortunes.

At length the ship got to the westward of the Cape, but she had been driven far to the south, and it was some time before the wind allowed her to steer a northerly course. She had already got into warm latitudes, when a high, cocoa-nut-covered, reef-bound island was discovered ahead. The savage character of the inhabitants of the isles of the Pacific had frequently been the subject of conversation on board, among those who had never before been in that part of the world, and it was naturally supposed that those living on the island in sight were deserving of the same description. As they coasted along, however, they could distinguish with their glasses numerous neat white buildings, and a wide extent of cultivated ground, and here and there towers and steeples, and edifices which had the appearance of ordinary school-houses; indeed, the land wore a wonderfully civilised aspect.

The captain, ordering the chief mate to keep the ship standing on and off, invited as many as two boats would contain to accompany him on shore. He carried an assortment of goods, not beads and looking-glasses and spear-heads, as would once have been the case, but cottons, and useful cutlery, and writing materials, and leather, and other articles in demand among civilised people. The boats arrived at a well-constructed wharf, where several decently-clothed natives stood ready to receive them. They were greeted with the salutation of "Blessings be on your head!" and one stepped forward and introduced himself as the trading-master, and requested to know what articles they wished to purchase. The captain gave a list of what he wanted, which were very soon brought down, and, the trade-master acting as interpreter, equitable bargains were soon struck, and all that was required by the voyagers was obtained at a reasonable rate. They were then allowed to visit any part of the island they chose with licensed guides. They expressed their surprise to the native interpreter at the state of things.

"Yes! great indeed is the change," he answered. "Thirty years ago we were among the most degraded of savages; but the good missionaries came, and though we would have driven them away, they persevered in remaining till they had taught us better things; and now you see us sitting clothed and in our right minds."

On inquiry, Charley found that there was not a heathen native in the whole island. There were churches always regularly attended, school houses, printing presses, lecture halls, a well-constituted government, and a perfectly educated native ministry. Not only were there no heathen, but, as far as human discernment could discover, true Christian principles were professed and practised by a large majority of the population. Few islands were in a more satisfactory state than this one; at the same time Charley heard that the inhabitants of a very considerable number had become Christians by the instrumentality of English missionaries, and still more by that of Christian natives, eager to impart to their countrymen the glad tidings they had themselves received.

"It was to this island, many years ago, that a native missionary swam on shore with a few books, wrapped up in a cloth, on his head. Our savage fathers stood on the rocks with clubs and spears, ready to kill him, but his life was preserved by the mercy of God, who loved our souls though we knew Him not. At first no one would listen to what the missionary had to say, and laughed him to scorn; but by degrees one stopped to hear, and then another and another, and found what he said to be very good, till by degrees as they understood more clearly the tidings he brought, hundreds flocked in and believed, and were converted."

Captain Harper corroborated all Charley had heard, and stated that whereas once it was dangerous at most of the islands to land unless in a strong body, well armed; now, throughout the whole of the eastern groups, the inhabitants were as kind and courteous to strangers and as well conducted as any people he had met on the face of the globe. One day after they had left the island, the officers of a whaler becalmed near them came on board, and complained bitterly of the altered state of things, abusing the missionaries for being the cause of the change to which they so much objected.

The surgeon of the ship, who ought to have known better, was especially very indignant with them.

"Once we could go on shore, and for a few beads or a knife not worth twopence buy as many provisions as we required, or any other article, and we could play all sorts of pranks with the natives, and nobody interfered with us. Now, if we ask them to buy or sell, or to dance, or to do anything else on a Sunday, they won't do it, and we can have no fun of any sort; and they say that we have lost our religion, and pull long faces at us, and ask us all sorts of strange questions about our souls. As a fact, these savages know more about religion than we do; and they can write books, and print and bind them, and some of them can preach for an hour at a time; indeed, I don't know what they can't do. The missionaries have done it all—spoilt them, I say; they were jolly fellows as savages, but they are desperately stupid now. To be sure, they did now and then murder a whole ship's company if they had the chance, and roast and eat them too, and they would steal anything they could lay hands on; and they were always fighting among each other; and they worshipped curious logs of wood and stumps of trees, and figures made out of rags, matting, and feathers; but we had nothing to do with that, it was rather fun to see them."

And so the surgeon of the whaler ran on, not at all aware that he was condemning himself and his companions, and their practices, and praising the long-benighted savages.

Charley observed that he could not help thinking that the change was for the better, and he could not help asking himself, "Where will the white man and where will the brown man be found standing at the day of judgment?"

He inquired of the doctor if he had heard of any young Englishman residing among the natives, or on any island in the eastern Pacific.

The doctor laughed, and said that there were a good many who had native wives, and were the prime ministers and privy councillors of the kings and princes who ruled the islands, especially those which still remained heathen.

Charley scarcely wished to find Margery's brother among these unhappy men. No! he was certain that if he was alive he was living on some unfrequented island, unable to get away. The Southern Cross touched at several islands, for the captain had a roving commission, to go where he thought best. At each of them Charley left on shore a number of cards on which he had written, "Jack Askew, a friend of your father's, Charley Blount, is looking for you. Send word to Callao, on the coast of Peru, and he will assist you to return home."

Captain Harper gave every assistance to Charley, but not a trace could they discover of the missing one. Two uninhabited islands had been visited; a third was sighted. Charley's heart beat high in anticipation of finding him whom he sought. Yet, why he expected to find Jack there more than at any other place he could not tell.

On the island, though it was a small one, there was a mountain and three or four lesser heights, which might prevent a person on the opposite side from seeing a ship; the captain, therefore, though he could not spare much time, agreed to sail partly round it, and to land Charley, Elton, Owen, and some of the men, to explore it. They landed in high spirits, on a sandy beach, and pushed on to the highest point whence they could survey the whole island, and where a flag they carried could be seen by any inhabitant on it. They reached the summit of the mountain. There were valleys and rocks and cascades, and cocoa-nut and other tropical trees and plants; indeed it was very like the description of Robinson Crusoe's island. They waved the flag and shouted, though shouting was of no use, as no one in the valley could have heard them. At length they descended towards the east, the point from which the ship was to take them off. Still they hoped that some one might appear.

"He may have been all the time watching the ship, and not have looked up towards the mountain," observed Owen, who had assumed the fact of Jack's existence, even more than Charley himself. They reached the beach without meeting the trace even of a human being. All the party looked blank at each other; it was very clear that that was not Jack's island.

Disappointed they returned on board. "Don't let us despair," cried Charley. "There may be, in the latitude where the Truelove was lost, fifty other islands, and Jack can only be in one of them, so that we cannot hope to find him in a hurry."

"No! of course not," cried Owen; "but we will find him notwithstanding that. Just let us get our little schooner fitted out and we'll visit every one of them, and twice as many if necessary."

Captain Harper had most liberally and kindly done his best for Charley's object. Captain Askew's friends at Liverpool had promised a reward of a hundred pounds to any man or ship's company, half to go to the master, who should discover and bring off young Askew, and half that amount for the discovery of any of the crew of the ill-fated ship. This information he gave to every whaler and other vessel the Southern Cross fell in with. Whalers especially, visit so many out-of-the-way spots while searching for their prey, to obtain wood and water and vegetables, essentials for the support of the health and life of the crew, that it was possible some of them might be tempted to make a more thorough examination of islands near which they might find themselves, than they would otherwise do. At length Callao was reached, and Charley with his two friends obtained their discharge.

The next thing was to find a vessel suited for their purpose. After inspecting a number, a beautiful little Spanish schooner, of about eighty tons, which had just come into the harbour, was purchased, and a motley crew engaged. The crew consisted of one Englishman, who had been twenty years from home, a negro, a Tahitian, and a native Indian; but still they all pulled wonderfully well together. Charley Blount was captain; Elton, first mate; and Hugh Owen, second. The schooner had been called the Boa Esperanza, and so they called her the Good Hope—an appropriate name.

Never had a happier party put to sea. They were in prime health and spirits, and had a good object in view, so that they could venture to pray for the success of their expedition. They had an ample crew for the size of the vessel; she was well-found, and sailed like a witch, and was altogether a first-rate little craft.

The Good Hope went out of harbour at the same time as the Southern Cross, the latter steering south on her homeward voyage, the former west, to explore all the islands known and unknown in that direction. Charley had given his utmost attention to navigation since he left England, and from the time Elton and Owen had agreed to accompany him, they had also studied the subject more carefully than before. They were, therefore, all three very fair navigators; indeed a good knowledge of navigation was very necessary for the work in which they were about to engage.

Away went the Good Hope on her adventurous and perilous voyage. The Pacific, though often calm, shows that it does not deserve its name at all times. After they had been a week out, the weather gave signs of changing: dark clouds appeared in the west, though the wind was still blowing from the east. They continued their course to reach an island which rose high out of the sea ahead. With the fair wind they then had they rapidly neared the island. Their glasses showed them that it was a beautiful spot, very like the island they had before visited, but larger. Just, however, as they got abreast of it, the gale, which had for some time been brewing, broke on them with great fury. Fortunately they were able to run back for shelter under the lee of the island, where, though they still felt the wind, the sea was comparatively smooth. Great vigilance was, at the same time, necessary, lest the wind changing suddenly she might be driven on the reefs which surrounded the island. Still they kept as close as they could, looking out for an opening through which they might pass and anchor inside.

Hugh Owen had a remarkably sharp pair of eyes, and was the first to espy, some way to the northward, a space of clear water with a sheltered bay beyond. The schooner was steered towards the spot. Owen was right. A slant of wind enabled them to stand through the passage. The sea dashed in foam over the coral reefs on either hand; careless steering, the parting of a rope, or a sudden change of wind would have hurled them to destruction. The dangers were passed, and she rode safely in a little bay, which had a sandy beach, and a fringe of rocks and trees above. No huts or dwelling-places could be seen, yet it seemed scarcely possible that so fine an island should be uninhabited. Still people might exist on the other side of the island, or more inland.

They had been advised not to venture on shore on any island, unless the inhabitants had become Christians, without arms. Owen and Elton proposed on this occasion going without them, as they were heavy to carry.

"No, no!" said Charley. "A rule is a rule, which, if a good one, should never be broken through."

This was the first island where, by their calculations, they had the slightest chance of finding Jack Askew, at least, it was about the longitude that the Truelove was supposed to have been lost.

Owen took charge of the schooner while Charley and Elton and three men went on shore, all sufficiently armed with rifles, pistols in their belts, and cutlasses by their sides. They hoped by starting early in the day to accomplish the tour of the island before dark. Having drawn up their boat on the beach, they pushed on for the highest point of land in the neighbourhood. On reaching it they saw in the valley below, on the further side, wreaths of smoke ascending from among a grove of trees. Charley and Elton agreed that there must be inhabitants, but wisely determined not to approach them without first ascertaining, if possible, their disposition. They therefore continued along the height, so as to avoid the valley, proposing to cross over by a route which appeared open to the opposite side of the island.

As they advanced they saw more signs of the island being inhabited: tracks leading in various directions, ruined huts, and marks of fires and native ovens. Some natives were also seen in the distance, but whether or not they were observed they could not tell. Charley and Elton speculated as they went on as to the probability of Jack being on the island. Wherever they went, in all conspicuous places they left the cards, with a notice that the schooner, on the east side of the island, was waiting for him, hoping that possibly he might see one of them, should they themselves miss him.

At length they reached the west side of the island, where the full strength of the gale was felt, and they were thankful that their vessel lay snugly in harbour, and sheltered from its fury. Here they found a group of huts and patches of cultivated ground, for the production of the taro root, but the inhabitants had hastily fled. This was unsatisfactory, as they must have had cause to dread the appearance of white men. They saw, therefore, that it would be prudent to return by the most direct route to the bay, where it would be safer to attempt establishing friendly relations with them; for should they fail, unless they could fight their way, they would probably be cut off. Keeping close together, they therefore marched rapidly westward.

Several times they saw natives armed with bows, spears, and clubs, hovering on either side, but none of them came within speaking distance. They seemed to increase in numbers as the party approached the bay, and Charley felt thankful when they came in sight of the schooner. Their first care was to get the boat afloat, that they might retreat if necessary. They had brought a number of useful articles for barter— knives and pieces of cotton cloth, and handkerchiefs, and nails, and some of them they placed on the rocks, beckoning the natives with friendly gestures to approach and take them. No sooner had Charley and his party retired to the boat, than nearly forty savages started up from behind the rocks and rushed towards the goods, eagerly seizing them, and as quickly retreating again under shelter. After this, nothing could tempt the savages from their cover. One thing was certain, that Jack could not be on the island, or the savages would have learned to treat white men in a different manner. Charley, therefore, determined to return to the schooner. No sooner, however, had his men begun to shove off the boat, than the savages, fearing to lose the treasures they possessed, made a furious rush in a body towards her, flourishing their war-clubs, and holding their spears ready to throw.

"Shove off, lads, shove off, for your lives!" cried Charley, seizing an oar. "Let not a shot be fired unless I give the word."

The savages, however, seeing that their expected prize was about to escape them, rushed on with greater speed, some hurling their spears, others, with clubs uplifted, threatening the destruction of all in the boat.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

THE RIGHT WAY TO TREAT SAVAGES—THE MISSIONARY AND HIS CONVERTS—THE BOY ON THE ISLAND.

Charley Blount's great wish was to avoid injuring any of the natives. In spite, therefore, of the spears which came flying around him, and the array of warriors with their war-clubs, he refrained from firing, and directed all his efforts to get the boat completely afloat. Just as a savage had got one hand on the stern and with the other was about to deal a blow with his club which would have killed Charley, the boat glided off into deep water, and the savage warrior toppled down with his nose in the surf. He was up again in a moment, but blinded by the salt water, and not seeing that the boat had escaped him, struck out with his club and again fell over as before, and would possibly have been drowned, had not some of his companions hauled him up and set him again on his legs. This circumstance assisted the escape of the boat, which was now getting away from the shore. Charley, anxious not to injure any of the savages, had ordered his men not to fire till the last extremity. Not a shot therefore was fired, and the boat got well off out of danger.

The question was now, how to show the savages that the white men possessed power, but had mercifully not employed it against them. They had on board an empty cask, in which some of the articles left with the savages had been brought off. This was ballasted and put in the water with a short flag-staff, and a handkerchief as a flag fixed in it. Pulling away a short distance Elton and Charley, and one of the men, who was a good shot, repeatedly fired and hit it, till at last the flag and staff were shot away to the astonishment of the natives, who stood looking on. Fortunately, a tree grew near the beach on one side, where there were no natives. Charley next made this his target, and the white splinters which flew out on either side must have convinced the savages that the missiles which produced them would have made, with greater ease very disagreeable holes in their bodies. Charley now once more pulled in towards the beach; the savages ran off. He had a few more articles left; he landed, spread them out, and then, returning to the boat, beckoned to the people to come and take them.

At length they seemed to comprehend his humane intentions, for several of them, leaving their clubs and spears on the bank above, approached the water, holding out their hands as if to welcome the strangers. Charley, on seeing this, telling Elton to be ready to support him if necessary, leaped boldly on shore, and advanced with extended hands towards the savages. They understood him, and now seemed to have banished their fears, and to have no treacherous intentions.

His first object gained, he endeavoured to make them understand that he was looking for one of his own countrymen. By signs he showed how a vessel had been wrecked, and that two of the people had swam on shore, and how he was looking for them; but they shook their heads, and he felt certain that this was not the island where Jack was to be found. While he was speaking several of the people brought down cocoa-nuts, plantains, taro, and other roots and fruits in baskets, as a proof of their friendly feelings, and showing, also, that they knew what the wants of white men were. How different, however, would have been the conclusion of the intercourse with these people, if the schooner's crew had fired on the first alarm, and the blood of the poor savages been shed?

The Good Hope laid at anchor for two days, when, the gale abating, she again sailed. There was still a good deal of sea, but as Captain Blount found that he could lay his course, he was unwilling to delay any longer, and, like most sailors, he believed that his craft could do anything. He ought before to have been called captain, though it must be owned that he was rather a young one, and captain of a somewhat small craft. He and his companions regretted that they had not brought an interpreter with them, that they might communicate without difficulty with the natives.

"We might have obtained some information from the poor savages we last visited about other islands lying to the westward," observed the captain; "I suspect, too, that they would have had to tell us, that some former visitors had taken them unawares and killed some of them, and so they had thought all white men were enemies, and had determined to kill the next they could get in their power."

"Yes, indeed," said Elton, "how different these are from the inhabitants of the first island we visited; I have been thinking that I should like to tell some of their missionaries of these poor people, and get them to send one of their number to instruct them."

"What, do you think that you could hope to make Christians out of such naked savages as those are?" exclaimed Hugh Owen, who had not turned his mind to the subject.

"Of course; those well-behaved, well-clothed people we saw, were quite as wild and ignorant as the naked savages we have just left, but a very few years ago. Not fifty years since there was not an island in the wide Pacific which had risen out of a state of the most complete savagedom. Now, in the eastern part of the ocean, whole groups have embraced Christianity. The Sandwich Islands are rapidly advancing in civilisation, and King George of Tonga, himself a man of much talent, though once a savage, ruled over a large population of enlightened men, a large number of whom possess a better knowledge of the Scriptures, and would be able to give better reasons for the faith that is in them than would nine-tenths of the population of any country in Europe, England not excepted."

"Who told you that?" asked Owen; "I have heard a very different account."

"I heard it from my late captain, who spent three years cruising among the islands of all parts of the Pacific," answered Elton. "Captain Harper, too, said the same thing, and neither of them can be accused of being in the interest of the missionaries."

"Certainly not; I fully believe the facts," exclaimed Charley. "If I had not undertaken to carry Jack back to his family, I should like to volunteer to convey missionaries to all these islands. I could not wish for a better employment for the little schooner or for myself."

"The very thought that was in my head," said Elton. "When our present enterprise is accomplished, I will offer my services for the work. I think that a sailor could scarcely be engaged in a better."

Faithfully did young Elton keep his promise.

Just then the man on the look-out exclaimed that he saw an object floating on the water ahead, but what it was he could not make out. As the schooner got nearer, the object was pronounced to be a raft, and to have living people on it. On getting still nearer, it was seen to be not a raft, but one of the double canoes of those seas, which consist of two canoes joined together by a platform. This platform extends across the entire width of both canoes and the greater part of their length. Several people were on the deck. Some were kneeling, one was standing up, and others were lying at their length, their heads propped up, as if in a state of exhaustion. As the schooner hove-to close to them, those on board her were startled by hearing, among sounds strange to their ears, the name of Jehovah clearly pronounced.

The people were dark-skinned, undoubtedly natives, though clothed in garments, either of native cloth or cotton, several of them wearing hats. They, however, it was evident, did not regard the appearance of the schooner with satisfaction, and several of them hung down their heads with apprehension at seeing her. As there was still too much sea to allow of the schooner going alongside of the canoe, a boat was lowered, and Elton and two men pulled up to her.

"We are friends; we, too, worship Jehovah," he shouted, holding up his hands as if in prayer. In an instant the aspect of the whole changed. Those who had been hanging down their heads lifted them up with a smile on their countenances, and the man who was standing in the midst of them exclaimed in return, "Yes, yes; friends—all who worship Jehovah are our friends!"

Elton was soon on board the canoe. The condition of the crew was truly piteous. Their last drop of water was exhausted—their last taro-root-their last cocoa-nut,—yet they were not desponding. They had done their utmost: they had prayed earnestly for deliverance, and were calmly waiting the result. Their canoe was in so battered a condition, that before Elton asked them any questions he advised that they should remove at once on board the schooner. Though only one of them spoke a little English, several of them understood what he said. They gladly assented to his proposal, begging him to take the most feeble first. These were quickly conveyed to the deck of the schooner, where Charley and Owen were ready with food and water to administer to them.

It took several trips before they were all safely placed on board the schooner, and, not long after the last party left the canoe, she slowly settled down to her platform, from which all on it would soon have been washed away, even with the sea there was then running.

When the whole party had been carefully attended to, Charley inquired by what means they had been brought into the condition in which they had been found. The chief man among them answered in broken but still intelligible English, that he was a native missionary, that he and his companions, two of whom were catechists and one a schoolmaster, had started to visit an island to the westward, which they had expected to reach in a couple of days, but that they were caught in a gale, and their mast and sail being carried away they were driven past it, and onward before the gale utterly unable to return, or even to stop their frail vessel.

Day after day they had been driven on, anxiously looking out for reefs ahead, knowing that if driven on one, their canoe must be dashed to pieces. Their rudder and oars had been lost, so that they had no power of directing their vessel. Several islands were passed on which they might have landed if they had had their paddles to guide the canoe to the shore. "One of them," said the missionary, "we passed so close, that we could clearly see a man on shore. It was a small low coral island, with a lagoon, or lake in the centre, and cocoa-nuts and other trees growing round it. By his dress and appearance we judged the man to be a white. We also saw a hut of some size built under the trees. He waved his hands wildly, as if entreating us to take him off, and seemed to be shouting, and then he went down on his knees and lifted up his hands, as if imploring mercy. Helpless ourselves, we could render him no aid."

"That must have been Jack!" cried Charley and his two friends in the same breath. "If we had not heard this, we might easily have overlooked such a spot. We might have run past it at night, or within ten miles, and not have seen it. What a dull and solitary life the poor fellow must have dragged out in such a place."

"If a man's mind is at peace, and he can converse with his God, he need not be sad or solitary," observed the missionary, calmly.

The young men then inquired how far off he should suppose the island to be.

The missionary answered that they had passed it about ten days before; that at that time they had been driving very fast before the gale, but after it had abated, much slower. So eager were Charley and his friends to follow up their search, that they debated whether or not they should continue their course to the west, and look for the island which had been described.

Elton was opposed to this while they had so many strangers on board. "No, no," he exclaimed; "do not let us be carried away by our zeal in the cause of our lost countryman; we have another duty to perform. We were but lately wishing that we could send a missionary to the ignorant inhabitants of the island we have lately left. Here is one presented to us—a man in every way fitted for the work. Let us put the matter before him."

They did so. Directly the missionary had heard the account they gave of the wild islanders, he, without hesitation, expressed his readiness to go among them, and said he was sure that all his companions would be ready to join him in the work. He was not mistaken in the zeal of his friends, "When souls are to be saved, and the glorious tidings of salvation to sinners to be conveyed, we are ready to go," they answered.

The schooner was therefore at once put about, and a course at once steered for the island. They were all curious to see how the wild natives would take their speedy return, and whether the missionary would be able to communicate with them, though he seemed to have no doubt on the subject. The next day the schooner dropped her anchor in the sheltered bay she had lately left. The natives were seen assembling from all quarters, and soon a large number collected on the beach.

Charley and Elton, Mark, the missionary,—for so he was called—and two other natives, went in the boat. Instead of pulling at once for the beach, the missionary begged to be landed at a point where some trees grew. From these he cut down some branches and distributed them among the party, when the boat was steered in for the place where the natives were collected. The branches were waved as the boat approached the beach, when the natives were seen cutting down branches and waving them in return. "It's all right," exclaimed the missionary, in a cheerful voice; "we shall be friends."

He then shouted to the natives, who replied in the same language; and without landing, as the stem touched the sand, he began an address, which appeared from his tones to be full of eloquence. They listened to it with profound attention, and then several of them stretched out their hands, and gave indubitable signs that they were eager to welcome him on shore. He and his companions accordingly landed, and were surrounded by the natives, who appeared as eager to listen as before. Captain Blount determined, however, to remain till the following day, as he had heard that these island savages were seldom to be trusted, and that, though they might appear friendly at one time, the next instant they might turn round and destroy those who had trusted them.

The night was an anxious one to Charley and his friends, as well as to the natives on board; but the next morning, when they went on shore, Mark gave so good a report of the islanders, that the whole of the strangers agreed to land and remain. Mark, however, recommended one young man, who understood English, though he could not speak it, to continue on board the Good Hope, that he might tell the natives of any islands they might visit who the strangers were, and also to assist in discovering the small coral island where the solitary white man had been seen. Captain Blount gladly accepted the offer.

"Tell my friends," said Mark, "that we have begun the work, but some years may pass away before all the inhabitants of even this small island understand the Glad Tidings, which they at present appear to receive so readily. When the work is accomplished, then I may return home."

Charley found that Mark, who was thus ready to devote himself to the work of the Gospel, was the son of a powerful chief or prince, and that he had thus literally given up much and all for its sake.

Both officers and men of the Good Hope had enough to do in keeping a proper look-out ahead for the numerous dangers in their course. Those who have only sailed in seas navigated for centuries with excellent charts of every rock, shoal, and current, are scarcely aware of the anxiety those experience who have to sail across an unknown ocean where numberless small islands exist, and reefs, some under the water and some just above it, on which the incautious voyager may run his ship and lose her, with little or no warning. At night, except when there was a moon, the schooner was hove-to, lest she should run on a reef, or past Jack's supposed island. The native, who said that his name was Peter, was as eager as any one, and was constantly aloft looking out for it.

Such an island as it was described might very easily be passed by without being observed. Charley, Elton, Owen, or Peter was therefore always on the look-out, for they would not trust one of the crew. Their difficulty was increased by a foul wind which sprung up from the westward, and compelled them to tack across their course. This greatly increased the distance they had to go over, and completely baffled Peter's calculations.

One night, having stood farther than before to the northward, a bright light was seen in the distance, which was pronounced by all on board to be a ship on fire. Sad must be the fate of all on board if no assistance arrived! Making all sail, they stood towards the spot. The red glare increased, the reflection extending over the whole sky. While they looked, expecting every instant to see the supposed ship blow up or the light suddenly cease by her sinking, Charley exclaimed that it was a burning mountain. His companions doubted the fact. Still they thought that it was a burning ship; the light was decreasing—again it blazed up. The sky over head appeared peculiarly dark. "Hillo! what is this coming down on us?" exclaimed Owen.

They felt the tops of their caps—they and the deck were gritty. It was a shower of ashes; the mystery was explained; the light was that of a burning mountain. As there was no object to be gained in going nearer to it, and Peter gave them to understand that he had not seen it when on board the canoe, they tacked and stood to the southward. More than once Charley thought of the remark people had made to him, that his expedition was like looking for a needle in a bundle of hay. "Never mind," he repeated; "if the needle is in the bundle, by diligent searching it may be found. A solitary white man has been seen on an island, we must first find out who he is."

The wind baffled them frequently, but still they perseveringly plied to windward, though next night they were again in sight of the burning mountain, which was to the north-east of the schooner, showing that they had made but little way to the west. Once more the wind turned in their favour, and they rejoiced that they were able to make better way than they had done for a long time. It was getting dusk, but at sunset no land had been seen ahead, and, eager to get on, they continued their course without shortening sail. Suddenly, Owen, who was forward on the look-out, shouted at the top of his voice, "Breakers ahead! Starboard! Down with the helm! Haul aft the sheets! For your lives be smart about it!" All hands flew to the sheets. The little vessel came up to the wind, and turned aside from the danger with a rapidity no larger one could have accomplished; but, even as it was, as she went about the white spray was seen dancing up in the darkness close under her counter, while beyond was a mass of foaming-breakers, among which had they been thrown, in vain would they have struggled for their lives, their career would quickly have been over.

Owen confessed afterwards that he was very weary, that he was fully under the impression that he was keeping a very bright look-out, and that certainly his eyes were wide open, but that it was on a sudden he became aware, from hearing some unusual sound, that breakers were dancing up directly ahead of the schooner. In another minute her doom would have been sealed.

Thankful for their merciful preservation, they agreed that at night two people should be on the look-out, and that they should be relieved every hour. The appearance of the reef made it probable that they were in the neighbourhood of other reefs and low coral islands, and they anxiously waited for daylight in anticipation of discovering the particular island of which they were in search. Standing to the south they cleared the reef, and once more, having shortened sail, they stood on their course.

The sun was just rising, a vast globe of fire, out of the purple ocean, when Elton, who had gone aloft, shouted, "Land! land! A low island, with palm-trees on it!" One after another, everybody on board went aloft to look at the long-wished for island. Peter came nodding his head, with a pleased smile, exclaiming, "Dat is land! dat is land!" for he had already learned some words of English.

The island, as the schooner drew near it, appeared to be of an oval form, under a mile in length and half that in width, with a large lagoon in the centre, having one entrance from the southern end and an outer reef, on which the surf broke, curling upwards like a wall of snow, and then falling back in wreaths of foam; the outer reef thus saving the islet from being overwhelmed during every gale of wind which raged. Inside the reef, the water was calm as a mirror and of the deepest blue; then came a line of glittering white sand, and then a circle of green of the brightest emerald, surrounding a basin of water even of a deeper blue than that on the outside.

Carefully the schooner approached; frequently she hove-to and sounded, but no bottom was to be found, and consequently there was little hope of her being able to anchor. She stood closer and closer in; with their glasses the adventurers examined the island in every part, but no one was seen moving. Still Peter insisted that it was the island on which the white man had been seen; indeed, he pointed out what certainly appeared to be a hut under the trees. The only way to ascertain whether the man was still there was to land, and that was a work of some difficulty. The boat, fitted with empty casks and pieces of cork round her sides to serve as a lifeboat, was lowered; the captain steered, Elton and three other men rowed. A narrow space of clear water presented itself through the surf: "Give way! give way!" cried Charley, and they dashed on, the water foaming and leaping up on either side, and they were safe within the outer reef.

The safest landing was within the lagoon. As they pulled up to it and looked over the sides of the boat, so pure and transparent was the water that they could see down to the very bottom, and beautiful indeed was the sight they beheld. Masses of varied coloured coral, sea-plants of every conceivable tint and of the brightest shells—some with their living inhabitants, others deserted—of the most lovely forms, while fish of curious shapes and beautiful colours glided noiselessly in and out amid the rocks and groves of this submarine fairy land.

Charley, however, was thinking of Jack, and was eager to land to ascertain whether he was really an inhabitant of the islet, or whether they had yet further to continue their search. The whole party was soon on shore, and hurrying up towards the spot where they expected to find the hut.

"Jack Askew! Jack Askew! are you there?" cried Charley, thinking that this was the best way to bring out the inhabitant of the hut should there be one, but there was no reply. "Alas!" he said to himself, "I am afraid that we have come too late to save him. Dear Margery, how bitter will be her disappointment; how it will grieve the hearts of the good old captain and Mrs Askew to hear it!"

And Charley walked on in silence towards the hut, which just then appeared between the cocoa-nut trees.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

JACK ASKEW FOUND—HIS ADVENTURES.

Was the hut deserted, or was the person whom Peter had seen waving his hands as the canoe drove past still its occupant? The hut was rudely built, partly of pieces of coral but chiefly of drift-wood, and thatched with the broad leaves of the pandanus, a species of palm growing on the island. Charley entered:—yes, it was inhabited. On a rough bed of dried leaves lay a young man; his cheeks were pale and hollow, his eyes sunken, but he breathed. "Water, water," he muttered; "oh mercy, water!"

Happily, Charley had brought a flask with some weak brandy-and-water; he poured a few drops down the sufferer's throat, while the men dispersed to try to find water on the island. Charley repeated his remedy, and by the time the water was found the sufferer was able to sit up long enough to take a refreshing draught of it. He looked around him with a surprised and bewildered air. "Who are you all?" he asked at length, in a low voice. "Where do you come from? I thought that I was left alone to die."

"Friends and countrymen; but don't speak," answered Charley, for though he was burning to learn if the sufferer was Jack Askew, he saw that he was in so weak a state from famine and sickness that any agitation might prove fatal. Suppressing therefore his curiosity, his great wish was to get him on board the Good Hope, where such food as was best fitted for his weak state could be procured. Still it seemed very important to give him some hot food before an attempt was made to remove him.

"I will manage it," exclaimed Elton, producing a calabash. "Let us get a fire lighted first, and see if any shell-fish or crabs, or perhaps even a young turtle may be found; I will make some soup, and though it may be blackish, it will not be the less wholesome."

As soon as the fire was lighted, while the men went to search for the fish, Elton collected a number of clean rounded stones from the beach and placed them in the midst of it. He then half-filled the calabash with water, into which, by means of a cleft stick which served the purpose of tongs, he put the red hot stones, and quickly made the water boil. By the time this was done the men returned with a very respectable sized turtle, which they had caught in a pool, into which he had been unwittingly washed. Some strips were immediately cut off him and put into the boiling pot. As soon as their goodness was supposed to be extracted, they and the stones were taken out with the cleft stick, and hotter stones and fresh strips put in. In a very short time a thick and nutritious soup was formed, which, though it would have been improved with salt, pepper, lemon, and a few other condiments, was well calculated to restore the vital energies, aided with small doses of brandy-and-water. Such, at all events, were the only means that Charley and Elton could think of for giving the sufferer the strength he required. Whether or not the turtle soup would have served the purpose without the spirit, or the spirit without the soup, it may be difficult to determine; at all events, the two combined had a most beneficial effect.

In the course of two or three hours he was able to sit up of his own accord, and then, gazing earnestly at those surrounding him, he asked, "What made you come to look for me? I have watched several ships pass, but no one saw me; no one thought that on this little island there was a human being longing to be at home with his friends, who must have long thought him dead, perhaps forgotten him altogether."

Charley saw that now was the time to speak, and that if the stranger should prove to be Jack Askew, the news he brought would do him good. "But, my friend, do you think that a fond mother so easily forgets her sailor son?—do you think a young loving sister forgets her brother?—do you suppose that an old sailor father does not know that a person may be cast on shore on a desert island in these little-known seas, and remain for years undiscovered?"

"Why do you ask those questions?" asked the lad, leaning forward with earnest eyes, and eagerly seizing Charley's arm—"How do you know that I have a sailor father, a fond mother, and a young sister?"

"If you are Jack Askew I know it very well, for your parents and dear little sister Margery have never ceased to think of you," answered Charley.

"I am! I am!" exclaimed the lad, throwing his arms round Charley's neck. "You tell me that they are alive still, father and mother, and Margery—dear, dear Margery! And are they well?—do they ever expect to see me?—can they believe that I am alive? All you tell me nearly turns my head with joy, but it won't kill me; I must live to go back to them."

Charley assured Jack that all were well, and that the only drawback to their happiness was his absence.

"And Margery! dear, dear little Margery; you must tell me all about her," exclaimed Jack, after a lengthened pause. "Is she grown?—is she as fair and bright and beautiful as she was? You don't know how I loved that little girl. I have often dreamed of her as an angel coming to look for me and take me home; and I have thought that she was flying away with me, holding my hand, over the sea and over the land; and oh, how bitter was the disappointment when I awoke and found that I was alone."

"You see, Jack, that she was constantly praying for you, and going in spirit to look for you, and her prayers were heard in heaven, as I am sure that sincere prayers, rightly prayed, are heard," observed Charley. "But you must not talk any more just now; have a little more soup, and go to sleep, if you can, for a short time, and then we will go on board."

"Thank you; you are very kind indeed, quite like a brother; and I want to know more about you—who you are, and why you came to look for me?" said Jack.

"Time enough for that when we get on board," answered Charley; "we have a somewhat long voyage before us, and it will be well to keep something in store to talk about."

Jack made no reply, he was indeed too weary to speak. Charley even now, as he watched over him, felt far from sure that he would ultimately recover, he was so thin and wan, and when he slept he looked more like a dead person than one alive.

Two or three anxious hours passed away, and every moment, as Charley watched the poor lad, he dreaded to see him heave his last sigh; but the food he had swallowed began to take effect permanently on his system—a slight colour spread slowly over his cheeks, his breathing became more regular, and when he awoke there was a brightness in his eye and a cheerfulness in his voice which Charley had not before observed. He wished that they could remain some days longer on the island, that Jack might regain more strength before going on board; but the weather was uncertain, and a gale might spring up and drive the schooner off, or perhaps wreck her; and, besides this, Jack entreated that he might be taken on board, and that no time might be lost in commencing their homeward voyage.

Hugh Owen was feeling somewhat anxious at the long delay of the boat, and was standing close in shore with the schooner to look for her, when she emerged from the passage through the reefs. His delight at seeing Jack was very great, and he declared that he could scarcely believe his senses when he found that what they had been so long talking about had really come true. By standing to the south they should be able to touch at one of the Harvey or Society Island groups, where they were certain of a hospitable reception, and of obtaining such provisions as they might require.

To refit the schooner properly, and to obtain stores for their long voyage home, it would be necessary to touch at Valparaiso, or some other port on the coast of Chili. It was a satisfaction to feel that wherever they touched among the groups of islands which have been mentioned, they would find civilised men and Christians ready to welcome them as friends, instead of as formerly savages, who would have taken every opportunity of murdering them and plundering their vessel. Still, as the noble-hearted Elton observed, as they looked over the chart of the Pacific and noted the numberless islands which dotted it in often thick-clustering groups, there must still exist a great deal of work to be done, and that he trusted to be able to engage in doing it.

Some days passed before Jack was able to speak much, and even then not beyond a whisper, or to listen to the account Charley had to give him of his expedition, and the way it had been brought about. Then, of course, he also wanted to hear of the doings at Stormount Tower, and how Margery had been carried off by the smugglers, and how Charley and Tom had recovered her. "Tom, dear old Tom, how I shall like to wring his horny fist again; it's as honest a palm as any in England!" cried Jack. "And you, Charley, what a fine fellow you are; I don't like to talk of giving Margery to any one, but I would rather give her to you, when the time comes, than to anybody else in the world; and I suspect that she wouldn't say nay if she was asked."

Charley said that he hoped so, and turned the conversation.

And now Jack was asked to narrate his own adventures, for hitherto the subject had been avoided, and he seemed in no way inclined to allude to it.

"It has been a terrible time indeed, as you may guess," he observed; "but now that it is over, I ought to think of it with gratitude to the good God who has preserved me safe through all my dangers. You know how I sailed in the Truelove with Captain Summers, and how, after touching at Callao, we steered westward, to visit various islands on our way to Japan. We were in high spirits, for we thought nothing of the dangers of the voyage, and only of seeing so many beautiful and strange islands and their inhabitants. A good look-out was always supposed to be kept ahead, and we were running one night, in the first watch, believing that the whole of our voyage would be as prosperous as the commencement, when the cry arose, 'Breakers ahead! Breakers on the starboard bow!' followed by 'Breakers on the port bow!' The helm was put down, the sheets hauled flat, but before the ship could by any possibility come about, she struck—then forged ahead, to strike again more heavily.

"Directly every one on board knew that there was not the slightest hope of saving the ship, scarcely of escaping with our lives. We had a long night before us, and the wind was increasing. The order was given to lower the boats, but two were swamped and the hands in them carried away. We heard their shrieks, but could not help them; besides, we knew that their fate would soon probably be ours. Then the sea began to beat over the ship, and soon made a clean breach across the waist, washing away the captain and the first mate and several more of the men. Just then a bright light burst forth to the north-east; two or three of the men who were clinging to the taffrail with me thought that it was a ship on fire, but after watching it for some minutes we became convinced that it was a burning mountain. We argued that if there was a mountain there was land; and I had heard that such lands were generally the most fertile, and so we hoped that if we could reach it we should find support.

"There was a light burning in the cabin, and the captain's supper was on the table; I managed to reach the companion-hatch, and slipped down below. I quickly snatched up whatever provisions I could find—a compass, a quadrant, and navigation book, and returned with them on deck. A small boat hung astern; two of the men, David King and another, agreed to lower her, for the water astern appeared occasionally to be comparatively smooth, and we fancied that she might swim where a larger boat might be swamped; at all events, we believed that the ship was about to break up, and that this would be the only chance of saving our lives. There was no time to be lost; we put everything necessary we could find into the boat, and, jumping in, lowered her down. As she touched the water, the other man, crying out that we should be swamped, swarmed up the falls, and in an instant King and I were carried far away from the ship. I thought his words would come true, but we were driven on right through the surf, and once more floated in smooth water.

"What would happen next we could not tell, so we lay on our oars, waiting till daylight. It was very long of coming; we thought that it never would come—at least that we should never see it. When it broke, we could no longer see the burning mountain, nor any land in that direction; nor could we have reached it had we seen it, for the wind was blowing strong from the quarter in which the light had appeared. Still more anxiously we looked for the ship; not a portion of her remained entire, but the numerous pieces of wreck which floated about near us, told us plainly what had become of her and our shipmates. We looked about, hoping that some of them might be floating on bits of the wreck, but no living being was to be seen. In the distance we observed the bodies of two poor fellows; we pulled up to them, knowing from the first that they were dead; they were those of two men who had been holding on to the ship when we left her.

"It would not do to remain where we were, and as we could not sail in the direction we proposed, we agreed to run before the wind till we could fall in with some island on which we could land. For four anxious days we ran on, till some palm-trees appeared ahead rising out of the water, and we knew that we we approaching a coral island. The wind had happily fallen, but the surf ahead showed us our danger in time, and putting down our helm we stood to the southward till we came to the end of the island; keeping away again we found a passage through the reef, by which we safely entered the lagoon.

"Here, for the present, we were safe from the dangers of the sea; the island was uninhabited, and we found a spring of water, but provisions were not likely to be plentiful. There were cocoa-nuts for one part of the year, and turtle and their eggs occasionally, and roots and shell-fish; and after a time it occurred to King that we might be able to catch some fish. Having walked round and round the island, or rather, almost round and back again, and considered how we should procure food, our next care was to build a hut to shelter ourselves from the sun by day, and the dews by night.

"And now commenced a solitary life, the end of which we could not see. Years might go by before a vessel might pass that way, and if one should pass, what little chance was there of our being seen! Still, I do not think a day went by without our talking on the subject, and looking out for a sail. King, poor fellow, was not much of a companion, as we had few ideas in common; but we never grew tired of talking of the probability of our getting away. He had a wife and family in England whom he longed to see, as much as I did my friends. How many months or years went by while he was with me I could not tell, for our life was a very monotonous one.

"We had kept our boat in as good repair as possible, not with the hope of making our escape in her, for she was too small for that, but for the purpose of putting off to get on board any ship which might appear. We were, therefore, chary of using her, but occasionally we went out fishing in her, when the supply we could get in the lagoon or from the shore ran short. One day I was ill, and King said that he would go out by himself. I warned him not to go, for from the appearance of the sky I thought bad weather was coming on. He laughed at my fears, said that he would bring me back a good dinner, and rowed round to the eastward of the island.

"He had not been gone long before my prognostications were verified; the wind began to rise. I went to the beach and beckoned him to return, but he was busy hauling up fish and did not see me, or observe the altered state of the weather; I shouted, but my voice did not reach him. He had already drifted out farther than usual; suddenly the movement of the boat as she got into rough water made him look up. By some carelessness one of his oars slipped overboard, and before he could recover it the squall had caught the boat, and whirling it round had sent her far from it. I saw his frantic gestures as he endeavoured to scull the boat back toward the island. Now he tried to paddle her with his remaining oar as an Indian does a canoe, but in vain. Every instant the gale was increasing and driving her farther and farther away.

"I watched her with a sinking heart growing less and less to my sight, till she was lost among the foaming seas in the distance. I then for the first time felt with full force my lonely position; I wrung my hands like a child; I burst into tears; I bemoaned my hard fate, and thought that I was forsaken of God and man. Not only was my companion taken from me, but the only means that I saw by which I could effect my escape. He might possibly reach some other shore; I should never leave that on which I was drawing out my weary existence. I see now, from what you tell me, how short-sighted I was; that our kind Father in heaven chooses His own way in carrying out plans for our benefit, and that what I thought was my ruin would ultimately prove the means of my rescue.

"For several days after King had gone I could neither eat nor sleep, or if I slept I dreamed that I saw him floating away, and tried to follow and could not. By degrees I recovered a portion of my tranquillity. Still I watched more eagerly for any passing ship. It might have been nearly a year afterwards, one morning as I arose a sail hove in sight. My heart leaped within me: I thought in my folly that those on board were coming to look for me. Oh how eagerly I watched her as her masts rose out of the water! On she came; I could see that she was a ship, a large ship, a man-of-war by her square yards. She must have sighted the island, and I thought that she would approach to survey it more carefully, when suddenly—perhaps some reef unknown to me intervened— she turned aside, and after hovering in the distance to tantalise me the more, she slowly stood away to the northward. I was almost as much overcome as when poor King was blown off the island. I now passed my days in a dull state of apathy; I had no books, no writing materials. Had I, as I might when I visited the cabin, brought away a Bible I saw on the captain's table which he had been reading for the last time, what a blessing and a comfort it would have, proved to me! I had a knife and an axe, and I often began to make various articles, but I had not the heart to finish them, for I always thought—'No one will see them, of what use will they be?' So the days passed on. Two other vessels appeared at long intervals, but passed at too great a distance to see me. One of them was becalmed off the island for some hours, and had I still possessed the boat I could without difficulty have pulled off to her. At length I fell sick; I had long been ailing, and it is my belief that had you not appeared at the moment you did, my career on earth would soon have been over."

"God, who in His kind mercy had resolved that you should be saved, so directed our movements for your speedy rescue; so that you owe us no gratitude," observed Elton. "But I am surprised at the description you give of your sensations, I had thought that a solitary life on an island might be made very pleasant and satisfactory."

"Oh, no, no!" cried Jack, "do not believe any such thing. We are not born to live alone, of that I became convinced. An older man might have found the life less irksome, but when I took it into my head that I should never get away it became perfectly terrible. Even had I not been ill, I do not think that I could have survived many weeks longer."

Such was the outline Jack gave of his life on the island, but when once he had begun the subject he described many adventures and other details which showed that there had been rather more variety it his existence than he had at first led his hearers to suppose, and that had he had books and paper and pens, he might probably have kept up his spirits better than he appeared to have done.

"Still, all is well that ends well!" exclaimed Jack, after he had one day been talking on the subject. "I now feel sure that what I have gone through was for my ultimate benefit, and I can thank God for the merciful way in which He has dealt with me."

The Good Hope touched at several islands, the entire population of which had become Christians not only in name but in deed, as they evinced by their lives and their totally changed characters. She got a thorough refit at Valparaiso, on the coast of Chili, to prepare her for her voyage round Cape Horn, and five months after Jack got on board she sighted the shores of Old England. Captain Blount felt sure that he could pilot her safely into Stormount Bay, but the wind fell somewhat, and the shades of evening came on before the schooner could beat up to it. Just then a fishing-boat was sighted, and a signal was made to her that a pilot was wanted. She was soon alongside, and a stout, middle-aged man stepped on board.

"Can you pilot us into Stormount Bay, friend?" asked the captain.

"I should think I could, since I've sailed in and out of it, man and boy, for pretty nigh forty years," answered the man. "It makes no matter night or day to us now either. You see that bright light just now, beaming out from the top of the cliff it seems? That's the light the lady who lives in the tower burns every night, that (as they say) her lost son who went away to sea and has never since been heard of, may see it when he comes up Channel, and find his way into the bay. Poor lad, I'd give pretty nigh all I'm worth to see him come back, for I was the main cause, I fear, why he was sent away; and bless his honest old father, he has never owed me a grudge for it, but on the contrary, has done me all the kindness in his power,—he has taught me to be an honest man."

The fisherman might have run on much longer had not Jack, who overheard him, exclaimed, "Nor do I owe you a grudge, Dick Herring; but tell me, old friend, how are my father and mother, and sister Margery, and old Tom, good old Tom?"

"Why, bless my heart! Master Jack, is it you? Well, it's hard to believe my senses,—and you to be alive all this time!" exclaimed Dick Herring, seizing Jack's hand and wringing it nearly off. "They're all well, every one on 'em, and they will be glad to see you, that they will."

Dick now recognised Charley, and right proud he was to pilot the Good Hope into Stormount Bay, nor would he receive a shilling reward, not even a glass of grog to drink Jack's health, for since he had given up smuggling and all its accompanying sins, he had become a strict temperance-league man.

"No, Master Jack, I won't drink your health, but I'll pray for it, and that'll do us both more good," he observed.

Little did Mrs Askew suppose whose vessel her lantern was guiding into Stormount Bay that night. The schooner's anchor was dropped and her sails furled before nine o'clock. The voyagers had purposed waiting till the morning before going on shore, but Jack's impatience would brook no delay. Charley went first and announced himself to Becky, who immediately exclaimed under her breath, "Is he come, Master Charles?"

"Never mind," answered Charley, "Do you go in and say Charley Blount has come."

Somebody heard his voice, and that somebody, forgetting that he was not Jack himself, rushed into his arms. "Has Jack come? has Jack come? Dear Charley, have you brought him?" exclaimed Margery.

"I can't keep you in suspense, my sweet Margery, he has come, and is not far off," answered Charley and before he could say more, Tom, who had followed Becky to the door, darted out into the darkness, and was soon heard exclaiming, "Come in, come in, my dear boy, joy does no harm to no one!"

Mrs Askew, who had been sitting at her work opposite Captain Askew, who was reading the newspaper by a bright light, hearing an unusual commotion, rose from her seat, as he also did from his.

"What is it all about, Margery?" cried the captain, stumping to the door.

"Good news, father, good news!" cried Margery. "Charley has come back safe, and he has—"

"Has he brought our boy—has Jack been found?" asked the captain, his voice trembling with eagerness.

"Yes, dear father, he has, he has!" cried Margery.

"Then let me have him here, and thank God!" cried the old sailor, stretching out his arms; and Jack, who had been hauled in by Tom, overheard him, and in another second, bounding up the stairs, was folded in those arms, with his mother and Margery clinging to his neck and weeping tears of joy.

The evening was indeed a happy one, and not till a late hour did any of the inmates of Stormount Tower think of retiring to rest.

While Mrs Askew lived, the light in the Tower was always, as before, lit at night, and on her death a lighthouse was built in its place. Charley Blount at a very early age, got command of a fine trader to India and Australia, and on the death of her parents Margaret Askew became his wife, while Jack was chief mate with Captain Blount for many years; and when the latter came to live on shore, Jack took command of a fine ship he had built, called The Stormount Tower.

THE END.