"Why?"

"I don't know; everything looks odd and strange to me. I don't feel like the same fellow."

Mollie persisted in her desire to know how the cabin-boy felt, and Noddy found it exceedingly difficult to describe his feelings. Much of the religious impressions which he had derived from the days of tribulation still clung to him. His views of life and death had changed. Many of Bertha's teachings, which he could not understand before, were very plain to him now. He did not believe it would be possible for him to do anything wrong again. Hopes and fears had been his incentives to duty before; principle had grown up in his soul now. The experience of years seemed to be crowded into the few short days when gloom and death reigned in the vessel.

The Roebuck sped on her way, generally favored with good weather and fair winds. She was a stanch vessel, and behaved well in the few storms she encountered. She doubled Cape Horn without subjecting her crew to any severe hardships, and sped on her way to more genial climes. For several weeks after his recovery, Captain McClintock kept very steady, and Mollie hoped that the "evil days" had passed by. It was a vain hope; for when the schooner entered the Pacific, his excesses were again apparent. He went on from bad to worse, till he was sober hardly a single hour of the day. In vain did Mollie plead with him; in vain she reminded him of the time when they had both lain at death's door; in vain she assured him that she feared the bottle more than the fever. He was infatuated by the demon of the cup, and seemed to have no moral power left.

The Roebuck was approaching the thick clusters of islands that stud the Pacific; and it was important that the vessel should be skilfully navigated. Mr. Lincoln was a good seaman, but he was not a navigator; that is, he was not competent to find the latitude and longitude, and lay down the ship's position on the chart. The captain was seldom in condition to make an observation, and the schooner was in peril of being dashed to pieces on the rocks. The mate was fully alive to the difficulties of his position; and he told Mollie what must be the consequences of her father's continued neglect. The sea in which they were then sailing was full of islands and coral reefs. There were indications of a storm, and he could not save the vessel without knowing where she was.

"Noddy," said the troubled maiden, after Mr. Lincoln had explained the situation to her, "I want you to help me."

"I'm ready," replied he, with his usual promptness.

"We are going to ruin. My poor father is in a terrible state, and I am going to do something."

"What can you do?"

"You shall help me, but I will bear all the blame."

"You would not do anything wrong, and I am willing to bear the blame with you."

"Never mind that; we are going to do what's right, and we will not say a word about the blame. Now come with me," she continued, leading the way to the cabin.

"I am willing to do anything that is right, wherever the blame falls."

"We must save the vessel, for the mate says she is in great danger. There is a storm coming, and Mr. Lincoln don't know where we are. Father hasn't taken an observation for four days."

"Well, are you going to take one?" asked Noddy, who was rather bewildered by Mollie's statement of the perils of the vessel.

"No; but I intend that father shall to-morrow."

"What are you going to do?"

She opened the pantry door, and took from the shelf a bottle of gin.

"Take this, Noddy, and throw it overboard," said she, handing him the bottle.

"I'll do that;" and he went to the bull's eye, in Molli's state-room, and dropped it into the sea.

"That's only a part of the work," said she, as she opened one of the lockers in the cabin, which was stowed full of liquors.

She passed them out, two at a time, and Noddy dropped them all into the ocean. Captain McClintock was lying in his state-room, in a helpless state of intoxication, so that there was no fear of interruption from him. Every bottle of wine, ale, and liquor which the cabin contained was thrown overboard. Noddy thought that the sharks, which swallow everything that falls overboard, would all get "tight;" but he hoped they would break the bottles before they swallowed them. The work was done, and everything which could intoxicate was gone; at least everything which Mollie and the cabin-boy could find. They did not tell Mr. Lincoln what they had done, for they did not wish to make him a party to the transaction.

They were satisfied with their work. The vessel would be saved if the storm held off twelve hours longer. The captain rose early the next morning, and Noddy, from his berth, saw him go to the pantry for his morning dram. There was no bottle there. He went to the locker; there was none there. He searched, without success, in all the lockers and berths of the cabin. While he was engaged in the search, Mollie, who had heard him, came out of her room.

The captain's hand shook, and his whole frame trembled from the effects of his long-inebriation. His nerves were shattered, and nothing but liquor could quiet them. Mollie could not help crying when she saw to what a state her father had been reduced. He was pale and haggard; and when he tried to raise a glass of water to his lips his trembling hand refused its office, and he spilled it on the floor.

"Where is all the liquor, Mollie?" he asked, in shaken, hollow tones.

"I have thrown it all overboard," she replied, firmly.

He was too weak to be angry with her; and she proceeded to tell him what must be the fate of the vessel, and of all on board, if he did not attend to his duty. He listened, and promised not to drink another drop; for he knew then, even when his shattered reason held but partial sway, that he would be the murderer of his daughter and of his crew, if the vessel was wrecked by his neglect. He meant to keep his promise; but the gnawing appetite, which he had fostered and cherished until it became a demon, would not let him do so. In the forenoon, goaded by the insatiate thirst that beset him, he went into the hold, which could be entered from the cabin, and opened a case of liquors, forming part of the cargo. He drank long and deep, and lay down upon the merchandise, that he might be near this demon.

Twelve o'clock came, and no observation could be taken. Mollie looked for her father, and with Noddy's help she found him in the hold, senseless in his inebriation. Mr. Lincoln was called down, and he was conveyed to his berth. The liquor was thrown overboard, but it was too late; before dark the gale broke upon the Roebuck, and fear and trembling were again in the vessel.



CHAPTER XVI.

NIGHT AND STORM.

Sudden and severe was the gale which came down upon the Roebuck, while her captain was besotted and helpless in his berth. Mr. Lincoln did all that a skilful seaman could do, and while the wind and the waves were the only perils against which the schooner had to contend, there was no serious alarm for her safety. The night had come, and the time had passed by when even Captain McClintock could do anything more than the mate.

Mr. Lincoln had kept the "dead reckoning" as well as he could without any knowledge of the currents; and it was evident that the vessel was in a perilous situation, and not far distant from the region of islands and coral reefs. The first hours of the stormy night wore gloomily away, for none knew at what moment the schooner might be dashed to pieces upon some hidden rock.

When the captain revived a little from the stupor of intoxication, he seemed not to heed the situation of the vessel. Taking the cabin lantern, he went into the hold again. His only thought seemed to be of the liquor on which he lived. All the cases that Mollie and Noddy could find had been thrown overboard; but the drunkard overhauled the cargo till he found what he wanted, and taking a bottle of gin to his state-room, he was soon as senseless as the fiery fluid could make him.

Mollie did all that she could do under these trying circumstances; she prayed that the good Father who had saved them before, would be with them now; and she knew that the strong arm of Omnipotence could move far from them the perils with which they were surrounded. She felt better every time she prayed. But the storm increased in fury, and she knew not the purposes of the Infinite in regard to them.

"I am afraid we shall never see the light of another day, Noddy," said she, as the great seas struck with stunning force against the side of the vessel.

"Why not? We have been out in a worse gale than this," replied Noddy, who felt that it was his peculiar office to keep hope alive in the heart of his gentle companion.

"But we may be in the midst of the rocks and shoals."

"We shall do very well, Mollie. Don't give it up."

"I don't give it up; but I am ready for anything. I want to be resigned to my fate whenever it comes."

"Don't be so blue about it, Mollie. It will be all right with us in the morning."

"You heard what Mr. Lincoln said, and you know we are in great danger."

"Perhaps we are."

"You know we are, Noddy."

"Well, we are; but for all that, the vessel will ride out the gale, and to-morrow you will laugh to think how scared you were."

"I am not scared; I am ready to die. Promise me one thing, Noddy."

"Anything," answered he, promptly.

"You will not blame my father if the vessel is lost. He is insane; he can't help what he does. He never did so before, and I know he don't mean to do wrong."

"I suppose he don't, and I won't blame him, whatever happens," replied he, willing to comfort the poor girl in any way he could.

"I should not care so much if it didn't look as though it was all father's fault."

"It will be all right to-morrow. We will throw the rest of the liquor overboard. We will search through the hold, and not leave a single bottle of anything there. Then we shall be safe."

"It will be too late then," sighed Mollie.

"No, it won't; the vessel will be saved. I know it will," added Noddy, resolutely.

"You don't know."

"Yes, I do; I am just as certain of it as I am of my own existence."

Noddy had hardly uttered these confident words, before a tremendous shock threw them upon the cabin floor. It was followed by a terrible crashing sound, as though every timber in the vessel had been rent and broken; and they could hear the rush of waters, as the torrents poured in through the broken sides. Noddy, without stopping to think of the vain prophecy he had made, seized the light form of Mollie, and bore her to the deck. The sea was running riot there; the great waves swept over the deck with a force which no human strength could resist, and Noddy was compelled to retreat to the cabin again.

The lantern still swung from a deck beam, but the water had risen in the cabin so that his descent was prevented. The Roebuck had run upon a reef or shoal in such a manner that her bow was projected far out of the water, while her stern was almost submerged in the waves. Noddy's quick perception enabled him to comprehend the position of the vessel, and he placed his charge on the companion ladder, which was protected in a measure from the force of the sea by the hatch, closed on the top, and open only on the front.

"My father!" gasped Mollie. "Save him, Noddy!"

"I will try," replied Noddy. "Hold on tight," added he, as a heavy volume of water rolled down the companion-way.

"Save him, and don't mind me," groaned the poor girl, unselfish to the last.

The brave boy stepped down to the cabin floor, where the water was up to his hips. Creeping on the top of the lockers, and holding on to the front of the berths, he reached the door of the captain's state-room. In this part of the vessel the water had risen nearly to the top of the door, and the berth in which the unfortunate inebriate lay was entirely beneath its surface. He crawled into the room, and put his hand into the berth. The captain was not there.

The water was still rising, and Noddy had no doubt that the poor man had already perished. The shock of the collision when the schooner struck, or the rising waters, had forced him from his position on the bed. The water was over Noddy's head in the state-room; but the agony of Mollie induced him to make a desperate effort to save her father. He dropped down on the floor, and felt about with his feet, till he found the body. The question was settled. Captain McClintock was dead. He was one of the first victims of his criminal neglect.

It was not safe to remain longer in the state-room, even if there had been any motive for doing so, and Noddy worked his way forward again as he had come. He found Mollie still clinging to the ladder, suffering everything on account of her father, and nothing for herself.

"My poor father!" said she, when she discovered her friend coming back without him. "Where is he, Noddy?"

"I couldn't do anything for him, Mollie," replied he.

"Is he lost?"

"He is gone, Mollie; and it was all over with him before I got there. Don't cry. He is out of trouble now."

"Poor father," sobbed she. "Couldn't you save him? Let me go and help you."

"No use, Mollie," added Noddy, as he climbed up the ladder, and looked out through the aperture at the hatch.

"Are you sure we can't do anything for him?" she asked, in trembling tones.

"Nothing, Mollie. He was dead when I opened the door of his room. I found him on the floor, and had to go down over my head to find him. He did not move or struggle, and I'm sure he is dead. I am sorry, but I can't help it."

"O, dear, dear!" groaned she, in her anguish.

She heeded not the cracking timbers and the roaring sea. Her heart was with the unfortunate man who lay cold and still beneath the invading waters. She was ready to go with him to the home in the silent land.

"You hold on tight a little while, and I will go on deck, and see if I can make out where we are," said Noddy.

"It matters little to me where we are. I shall soon be with my father," replied Mollie.

"Don't say that. Your father is at rest now."

"And I shall soon be at rest with him. Do you hear those terrible waves beat against the vessel? They will break her in pieces in a few moments more."

"Perhaps they will, and perhaps they won't. You mustn't give up, Mollie. If I should lose you now, I shouldn't care what became of me."

"You have been very good to me, Noddy; and I hope God will bless you."

"I want to save you if I can."

"You cannot, Noddy, in this terrible storm. We are poor weak children, and we can do nothing."

"But I am bound to work and win. I shall not give it up yet, Mollie. We have struck upon a rock or a shoal, and the land can't be a great ways off."

"Such an awful sea! We could never reach the land."

"We can try—can't we?"

"Where is Mr. Lincoln?"

"I don't know. I have not heard a sound but the noise of the sea since the vessel struck. I suppose he and the rest of the men were washed overboard."

"How horrible!"

"I don't know. They may have left in one of the boats."

"I haven't any courage, Noddy. My poor father is gone, and I don't feel as though it made any difference what became of me."

"Don't talk so, Mollie. Save yourself for my sake, if you don't for your own."

"What can we do?" asked she, blankly, for the situation seemed utterly hopeless.

"I don't know; I will see," replied Noddy, as he crawled through the aperture, and reached the deck.

A huge wave struck him as he rose upon his feet, and bore him down to the lee side of the vessel; but he grasped the shrouds, and saved himself from being hurled into the abyss of waters that boiled in the fury of the storm on both sides of the stranded schooner. He ran up the shrouds a short distance, and tried to penetrate the gloom of the night. He could see nothing but the white froth on the waves, which beat on all sides. There was no land to be seen ahead, as he had expected, and it was evident that the Roebuck had struck on a shoal, at some distance from any shore.

It was impossible to walk forward on the deck, for the savage waves that broke over the vessel would have carried him overboard. The sight suggested the manner in which the men had so suddenly disappeared. They had probably been swept away the moment the vessel struck. The rigging of the schooner was all standing, and Noddy decided to go forward to ascertain if there was any comfortable position there for Mollie. He went to the main-mast head, and, by the spring-stay, reached the fore-mast. Descending by the fore-shrouds, he reached the forecastle of the schooner.

The bow had been thrown up so high on the shoal that the sea did not break over this part of the vessel with anything like the force it did farther aft. The hatch was on the fore-scuttle, and it was possible that the men had taken refuge in the forecastle. Removing the hatch, he called the names of Mr. Lincoln and others; but there was no response. He then went down, and attempted to make his way aft through the hold. This was impossible, and he was obliged to return by the way he had come.

"My poor father!" sighed Mollie, as Noddy reached the ladder to which she was clinging; "I shall never see you again."

"Come, Mollie. I want you to go with me now," said he, taking her by the arm.

"Did you find any of the crew?" she asked.

"Not a single one."

"Poor men!"

"I am afraid they are all drowned; but we may be saved if we only work. If we stay here we shall certainly be lost. If the sea should carry off the companion-hatch, we should be drowned out in spite of all we could do."

"What can we do?"

"We must go forward."

"That is impossible for me, Noddy."

"No, it isn't."

"Save yourself, Noddy, if you can. I do not feel like doing anything."

"I shall stay by you, and if you are lost I shall be lost with you."

"Then I will go with you, and do anything you say," said she, earnestly; for when the life of another was at stake, she was willing to put forth any exertion.

"The vessel holds together first-rate, and if we stick by her till morning, we may find some way to save ourselves. Don't give it up, Mollie. Work and win; that's my motto, you know."

"I am ready to work with you, Noddy, whether you win or not."

The persevering boy got a rope, which he made fast around the little girl's body, and watching his time, at the intervals of the breaking waves, he bore her to the main shrouds. She went up to the mast head without much difficulty, though the force of the wind was so great that Noddy had to hold on to her, to keep her from being blown from the ropes.

At this point he made a sling for her on the spring-stay, in which she sat as a child does in a swing. It was adjusted to the big rope so that it would slip along, and permit her to hold on to the stay with her hands. The vessel seemed to be so wedged in the rocks or sand, on which she had struck, that she did not roll, and the only obstacle to a safe passage from one mast to the other, was the violence of the gale. By Noddy's careful and skilful management, the transit was made in safety through the most imminent peril. The descent to the deck, forward, was more easily accomplished, and the heroic youth soon had the pleasure of seeing his gentle charge safe, for the present, in the forecastle.

He had worked and won, so far. He was satisfied with the past, and hopeful of the future. Having conducted Mollie to a safe place, he turned his attention once more to the situation of the vessel. Looking over the bow, he discovered the dark, ragged rocks, rising a few feet above the water, on which she had struck, but he could not see any land.



CHAPTER XVII.

AFTER THE STORM.

The Roebuck had been built, under the direction of Captain McClintock, for the voyage around Cape Horn. She was a new vessel, and of extra strength, and she held together in spite of the hard thumping she received on the rocks. As she struck, a hole was knocked in her bottom; but her bow had been forced so far up on the rocks that the water which she made all settled aft.

With tender care Noddy had wrapped up his frail companion in a pea jacket he found in the forecastle, and together they waited anxiously for the morning light. The waves beat fiercely against the side of the vessel, pounded on the decks as they rolled over the bulwarks; and the survivors were in continual fear that each moment would witness the destruction of their ark of safety. Noddy had made the best arrangements he could for a speedy exit, in case the worst should be realized.

With the first signs of daylight Noddy was on deck endeavoring to obtain a better knowledge of the location of the wreck. It seemed to him then that the force of the gale had abated, though the sea was hardly less savage than it had been during the night. As the day dawned, he discovered the outline of some dark object, apparently half a mile distant. He watched this sombre pile till there was light enough to satisfy him that it was an island.

"Hurrah!" shouted Noddy,—forgetting, in the joy of this discovery, that death and destruction had reigned on board the Roebuck.

"What is it?" asked Mollie, hardly moved by the gladness of her companion.

"Land ho!" replied he, as he descended the ladder to the forecastle.

"Where is it?" said she, languidly, as though she did not feel much interested in the announcement.

"Right over here, about half a mile off."

"It might as well be a thousand miles off; for we can never get there."

"O, yes, we can. We have the boat on deck. I'm afraid you are discouraged, Mollie."

"I can't help thinking of poor father," said she, bursting into tears again.

Noddy comforted her as well as he could. He told her she ought not to repine at the will of God, who had saved her, though he had permitted her father to be lost; that she ought to be grateful for her own preservation; and, what seemed to be the strongest argument to him, that weeping and "taking on" would do no good. He was but a poor comforter, and only repeated what he had often heard her say in the dark hours of their former tribulation. Her father was dead, and she could not help weeping. Whatever were his faults, and however great had been the error which had brought her to the present extremity, he was her father. In his sober days he had loved her tenderly and devotedly; and it seemed like sacrilege to her to dry the tears which so readily and so freely flowed. They were the natural tribute of affection from a child to a lost parent.

Noddy did not dare to say all he believed, for he was convinced that the death of the captain was a blessing to himself and to his daughter. He was so besotted by the demon that life could henceforth be only a misery to him, and a stumbling-block to her. It required no great faith for him to believe, in the present instance, that the good Father doeth all things well.

The daylight came, and with it the hope of brighter hours. The clouds were breaking away, and the winds subsided almost as suddenly as they had risen. Still the waves broke fiercely over the wreck, and it was impossible to take any steps towards reaching the land, whose green hills and bright valleys gladdened the heart of the storm-tossed sailor-boy. With an axe which he found in the forecastle, he knocked away a couple of the planks of the bulkhead which divided the seamen's quarters from the hold. He passed through, by moving a portion of the miscellaneous cargo, to the cabin, where he obtained some water, some ship bread, and boiled beef.

Poor Mollie had no appetite; but to please her anxious friend, she ate half a biscuit. They passed the forenoon in the forecastle, talking of the past and the future; but the thoughts of the bereaved daughter continually reverted to her father. She talked of him; of what he had been to her, and of the bright hopes which she had cherished of the future. She was positive she should never be happy again. After much persuasion, Noddy induced her to lie down in one of the bunks, and being thoroughly exhausted by anxiety and the loss of rest, she went to sleep, which gave her patient friend a great deal of satisfaction.

She slept, and Noddy went on deck again. The waves had now subsided, so that he could go aft. He found that the jolly-boat was gone from the stern davits. At first he supposed it had been washed away by the heavy sea; but a further examination convinced him that it had been lowered by the men. It was possible, if not probable, the crew had taken to the boat, and he might find them on the island, or a portion of them, for it was hardly to be expected that the whole crew had escaped.

From the deck he went below. He had anticipated that the fall of the tide would enable him to enter the state-room of the captain; but there was no perceptible change in the height of the water. In this locality the whole range of the tide was not more than a foot. There were many things which might be of great value to Mollie, if they ever escaped from this region, and he was anxious to save them for her use. The captain had a considerable sum of money in gold and silver. The cabin-boy, knowing where it was, set himself at work to obtain it. He was obliged to dive several times before he succeeded; but at last he brought it up, and deposited it in the safest place he could find.

Other articles of value were saved in the same manner, including the captain's chronometer and sextant, the sad neglect of which had caused the terrible disaster. Towards night a change in the wind "knocked down" the sea, and the waves no longer dashed against the shattered vessel. The galley had been washed away; but the boat on deck, though thrown from the blocks, was still uninjured; and Noddy was sorely perplexed to find a means of getting it overboard. It was too late, and he was too tired to accomplish anything that night.

Mollie was awake when he went to the forecastle again; and rest and refreshment had made her more cheerful and more hopeful. She spoke with greater interest of the future, and dwelt less mournfully on the sad event which had made her an orphan. Noddy told her his plans for the morrow; that he intended to launch the long-boat, and visit the island the next day; that he would build a house for her; and that they would be happy there till some passing whaler picked them up. The tired boy, now secure of life, went to sleep. His fair companion wept again, as she thought of the pleasant days when her father had been a joy to every hour of her existence; but she, too, went to sleep, with none to watch over her but the good Father who had saved her in all the perils through which she had passed.

The sun rose clear and bright the next morning, and Noddy went on deck to prepare their simple breakfast. He had constructed a fireplace of iron plates, and he boiled some water to make tea. Mollie soon joined him; and sad as she still was, she insisted that the cooking was her duty. She performed it, while Noddy employed himself in devising some plan by which, with his feeble powers, he could hoist the heavy boat into the water. The bulwarks had been partially stove on one side, and he cleared away the wreck till there was nothing to obstruct the passage of the boat over the side.

They sat down on the deck to eat their breakfast; and during the meal Noddy was very quiet and thoughtful. Occasionally he cast his eyes up at the rigging over their heads. Mollie could not help looking at him. She had a great admiration for him; he had been so kind to her, and so brave and cheerful in the discharge of the duties which the awful catastrophe imposed upon him. Besides, he was her only friend—her only hope now.

"What are you thinking about, Noddy?" asked she, perplexed by his unusually meditative mood.

"I was thinking how I should get the boat into the water."

"You can't get it into the water. What can a small boy like you do with a great boat like that?"

"I think I can manage it somehow."

"I am afraid not."

"Don't give it up, Mollie; our salvation depends on that boat. I found out something more, when I went aloft this morning."

"What?"

"There is another island off here to the northward, just as far as you can see. We may wish to go there, and the boat would be wanted then."

"Noddy, perhaps there are savages on those islands, who will kill us if we go on shore."

"Two can play at that game," replied Noddy, in his confident tone.

"What could a boy like you do against a mob of Indians?"

"There are two or three pistols in the cabin, and I think I know how to use them; at any rate I shall not be butchered, nor let you be, without showing them what I am made of," answered Noddy, as he rose from the planks, and turned his attention once more to the moving of the boat.

"You wouldn't shoot them—would you?"

"Not if I could help it. I shouldn't want to shoot them; and I won't do it, if they behave themselves. But I must go to work on the boat now."

"Let me help you, Noddy, I am real strong, and I can do a great deal."

"I will tell you when you can help me, Mollie, for I may need a little assistance."

"I don't see how you are going to do this job."

"I will show you in a moment," replied Noddy, as he ran up the main shrouds.

He carried a small hatchet in his belt, with which he detached the starboard fore-brace from the mast. This was a rope, the end of which was tied to the main-mast, and extended through a single sheaf-block at the starboard fore-yard-arm. After passing through this block, the brace returned to the main-mast, passed through another block, and led down upon the deck. There was another rope of the same kind on the port side of the vessel. They were used to swing round the yard, in order to place the sail so that it would draw in the wind.

When Noddy cut it loose, the brace dropped to the deck. It was now simply a rope passing through a single block at the end of the yard. The little engineer made fast one end of the brace to the ring in the bow of the boat. He then unhooked the peak halliards of the fore-sail, and attached them to the ring in the stern of the boat. Now, if he had had the strength, he would have pulled on the yard-arm rope till he dragged the bow out over the water; the stern line being intended merely to steady the boat, if necessary, and keep it from jamming against the mast. When he had drawn the bow out as far as he could with the brace, he meant to attach the same rope to the stern, and complete the job.

"That's all very pretty," said Mollie, who had carefully noticed all her companion's proceedings; "but you and I can't hoist the boat up with that rigging."

"I know that, Mollie," replied Noddy, wiping the perspiration from his brow. "I haven't done yet."

"I am afraid you won't make out, Noddy."

"Yes, I shall. Work and win; that's the idea."

"You are working very hard, and I hope you will win."

"Did you know I made an improvement on Miss Bertha's maxim?"

"Indeed! What?"

"He that works shall win."

"That's very encouraging; but it isn't always true."

"It is when you work in the right way," answered Noddy, as he took the end of the yard-arm rope, and, after passing it through a snatch-block, began to wind it around the barrel of the small capstan on the forecastle.

"Perhaps you haven't got the right way."

"If I haven't I shall try again, and keep trying till I do get it," replied Noddy, as he handed Mollie the end of the rope which he had wound four times round the capstan. "Do you think you can hold this rope and take in the slack?"

"I am afraid there will not be any to take in; but I can hold it, if there is," said she, satirically, but without even a smile.

Noddy inserted one of the capstan bars, and attempted to "walk round;" but his feeble powers were not sufficient to move the boat a single inch. He tightened up the rope, and that was all he could accomplish.

"I was afraid you could not stir it," said Mollie; but her tones were full of sympathy for her companion in his disappointment.

He struggled in vain for a time; but it required a little more engineering to make the machinery move. Taking a "gun-tackle purchase," or "tackle and fall," as it is called on shore, he attached one hook to the extreme end of the capstan bar, and the other to the rail. This added power accomplished the work; and he made the capstan revolve with ease, though the business went on very slowly. He was obliged to shift back the bar four times for every revolution of the barrel. But the boat moved forward, and that was success. He persevered, and skill and labor finally accomplished the difficult task. The boat floated in the water alongside the wreck. He had worked; he had won.



CHAPTER XVIII.

THE BEAUTIFUL ISLAND.

"There, Mollie, what do you think now!" exclaimed the youthful engineer, as he made fast the painter of the boat to a ring in the deck of the schooner.

"You have worked very hard, Noddy, but you have succeeded. You must be very tired."

"I am tired, for I have done a hard day's work."

"You ought to rest now."

"I think I will. We are in no hurry, for we are very comfortable here, and storms don't come very often."

It was late in the afternoon when the work of getting out the boat was finished. Noddy had labored very hard, and he was perfectly willing to rest during the remainder of the day. Mollie made some tea, and they had supper at an early hour. It was a remarkably pleasant day, and the air was as soft and balmy as a poet's dream. Both the young workers were very much fatigued, and they sat upon the deck till dark.

"Where is my father now?" asked Mollie, as she cast a nervous glance towards the beautiful island which they hoped to reach on the following day.

"Where is he?" repeated Noddy, surprised at the question, and not knowing what she meant.

"I mean his remains."

"In his state-room," answered Noddy, very reluctant to have the subject considered.

"Will you do one thing more for me, Noddy?" demanded she, earnestly and impressively.

"Certainly, I will, Mollie."

"It shall be the last thing I shall ask you to do for me."

"Don't say that, for I've always been ready to do everything you wished me to do."

"I know you have, Noddy; and you work so hard that I don't feel like asking you to do any extra labor."

"I will do anything you wish, Mollie. You needn't be afraid to ask me, either. If you knew how much pleasure it gives me to work for you, I'm sure you would keep me busy all the time."

"I don't wish to wear you out, and you may think this is useless work."

"I'm sure I shall not, if you want it done."

"If you knew how sad it makes me feel to think of my poor father lying in the water there, you would understand me," added she, bursting into tears.

"I know what you mean, Mollie, and it shall be done the first thing to-morrow."

"Thank you, Noddy. You are so good and so kind! I hope I shall see Miss Bertha, some time, and tell her what you have done for me," continued she, wiping away her tears.

They retired to the forecastle soon after dark; and when Mollie had said her simple prayer for both of them, they lay down in the bunks, and were soon asleep.

Noddy's first work the next morning was to rig a mast and sail for the long-boat. In this labor he was assisted by Mollie, who sewed diligently on the sail all the forenoon. While she was thus engaged, Noddy, without telling her what he was going to do, went into the cabin, carrying a boat-hook, and, with a feeling of awe amounting almost to superstitious terror, proceeded to fish up the body of Captain McClintock. He knew just where it lay, and had no difficulty in accomplishing the task. He dragged the remains out into the cabin, and floated the corpse in the water to the foot of the ladder. It was an awful duty for him to perform; and when he saw the ghastly, bloated face, he was disposed to flee in terror from the spot.

Noddy was strong for his years, or he could not have placed the body on the locker, out of the reach of the water. He prepared the remains for burial precisely as those of Mr. Watts had been. The most difficult part of the task was yet to be performed—to get the corpse on deck, and lower it into the boat. He procured a long box in the hold, from which he removed the merchandise, and found that it would answer the purpose of a coffin. By much hard lifting, and by resorting to various expedients, he placed the remains in the box and nailed down the lid. He felt easier now, for the face of the corpse no longer glared at him.

When he had bent on the sail, and shipped the rudder, he contrived to set Mollie at work in the forecastle, where she could not see what he was doing; for he thought his work must be revolting to her feelings, especially as it would be very clumsily performed. Having put a sling on the box, he rigged a purchase, and hoisted it out of the cabin. Then, with suitable rigging, he lowered it into the boat, placing it across the thwarts, amidships.

"Come, Mollie," said he, in a gentle, subdued tone, at the fore-scuttle.

"What, Noddy?" asked she, impressed by his voice, and by his manner, as she came up from below.

"We will go on shore now."

"To-day?"

"Yes; but we will return. The boat is ready, and I have done what you asked me to do."

"What?"

"Your father."

She was awed by his manner, and did not readily understand what he meant. He pointed to the long box in the boat, and she comprehended the loving labor he had performed. She did not inquire how he had accomplished the task, and did not think of the difficulties which attended it. Noddy did not allude to them.

"I am ready, Noddy; but can you get me the prayer-book?" said she, her eyes filling with tears, as she prepared to perform the pious duty which the exigencies of the occasion required of her.

The book was fortunately on a shelf to which the water had not risen, and he brought it up and gave it to her. He had before placed a pick and shovel, an axe, a couple of boards and some cords in the boat. He helped her to a seat in the stern-sheets, and shoved off. There was hardly a breath of wind, and Noddy sculled the boat towards an opening in the reef, which was of coral, and surrounded the island. The afflicted daughter gazed in silent grief at the box, and did not speak a word till the boat entered a little inlet, which Noddy had chosen as a landing-place.

He stepped on shore, and secured the boat to a bush which grew on the bank. Mollie followed him in silence, and selected a place for the grave. It was at the foot of a cocoa palm. The spot was as beautiful as the heart could desire for such a holy purpose; and Noddy commenced his work. The soil was light and loose, and after much severe labor, he made a grave about three feet deep. It would be impossible for him to lower the box into the grave; and, from one end, he dug out an inclined plane, down which he could roll the corpse to its final resting-place.

It required all his skill, strength, and ingenuity to disembark the box; but this was finally accomplished, with such assistance as the weeping daughter could render. The rude coffin was then moved on rollers to the foot of the tree, and deposited in the grave. Mollie opened the book to the funeral prayer, and handed it to her companion. Severe as the labor he had performed had been, he regarded this as far more trying. He could not refuse, when he saw the poor girl, weeping as though her heart would break, kneel down at the head of the grave. Fortunately he had read this prayer many times since it had been used at the obsequies of Mr. Watts, and it was familiar to him. Awed and impressed by the solemn task imposed upon him, he read the prayer in trembling, husky tones. But he was more earnest and sincere than many who read the same service in Christian lands. It touched his own heart, and again the good Father seemed to be very near to him.

The reading was finished, and the loving girl, not content with what had been done, gathered wild flowers, rich and luxuriant in that sunny clime, and showered them, as a tribute of affection, on the rough coffin. Noddy filled up the trench first, and then, amid the sobs of the poor child, covered all that remained of her father. With what art he possessed he arranged the green sods, as he had seen them in the graveyard at Whitestone. Mollie covered the spot with flowers, and then seemed loath to leave the grave.

From the beginning, Noddy had trembled lest she should ask to look once more on the face of the departed. He had been horrified at the sight himself, and he knew that the distorted visage would haunt her dreams if she was permitted to gaze upon it; but she did not ask to take that last look. Though she said nothing about it, she seemed to feel, instinctively, that the face was not that she had loved, which had smiled upon her, and which was still present in her remembrance.

"Come, Mollie, it is almost dark, and we must go now," said he, tenderly, when he had waited some time for her.

"I am ready, Noddy; and you cannot tell how much better I feel now that my poor father sleeps in a grave on the land—on the beautiful island!" replied she, as she followed him to the boat. "You have been very kind to do what you have. It has cost you a whole day's labor."

"It is the best day's work I have done, Mollie, if it makes you feel better," replied Noddy, as he hoisted the sail.

They did not reach the wreck till it was quite dark, for the wind was light. Mollie was more cheerful than she had been since the vessel struck. She had performed a religious duty, which was very consoling to her feelings in her affliction; and Noddy hoped that even her sadness would wear away amid the active employments which would be required of her.

In the morning, Noddy loaded the boat with provisions, and such useful articles as they would need most on the island, and in the middle of the forenoon they again sailed for the land. They entered the little inlet, and moored the boat in a convenient place, for it was decided that they should explore the island before the goods were landed.

"We are real Robinson Crusoes now, Noddy," said Mollie, as they stepped on shore.

"Who's he?"

She told him who Crusoe was, and some of the main features of his residence on the lonely island. She was surprised to learn that he had never read the story.

"But we have everything we can possibly need, while Crusoe had scarcely anything. We have provisions enough in the vessel to last us a year," added she.

"We shall do very well. I don't think we shall have to stay here long. There are whale ships in all parts of the South Seas, and if they don't come to us, we can go to them, for we have a first-rate boat."

They walked up the hill which rose from the little plain by the sea-side, where they found a small table-land. But it did not take them long to explore the island, for it was hardly a mile in diameter. Portions of it were covered with trees, whose shape and foliage were new and strange to the visitors. No inhabitants dwelt in this little paradise; but the reason was soon apparent to Noddy; for, when Mollie was thirsty, their search for water was unavailing. There was none on the island.

This was an appalling discovery, and Noddy began to consider the situation of the water casks on board the wreck. They returned to the boat, and having selected a suitable spot, the goods were landed, and carefully secured under a sail-cloth brought off for the purpose. For two weeks Noddy labored diligently in bringing off the most serviceable goods from the wreck. He had constructed a tent on shore, and they made their home on the island. For the present there was nothing but hard work, for a storm might come and break up the schooner.

Noddy rigged a series of pulleys, which enabled him to handle the water casks with ease. Other heavy articles were managed in the same way. Farther up the inlet than his first landing-place he found a tree near the shore, to which he attached his ropes and blocks, to hoist the barrels out of the boat. We are sorry that our space does not permit a minute description of these contrivances, for many of them were very ingenious. The labor was hard, and the progress often very slow; but Noddy enjoyed the fruit of his expedients, and was happy in each new triumph he achieved. He had found a joy in work which did not exist in play.

"Now, Mollie, we must build a house," said he, when he had brought off sufficient supplies from the wreck.

"Do you think you can make a house, Noddy?"

"I know I can."

"Well, I suppose you can. I think you can do anything you try to do."

"I have brought off all the boards I could get out of the wreck, and I am sure I can build a very nice house."

The work was immediately commenced. Near the spot selected for the mansion of the exiles there was a grove of small trees. The wood was light and soft, and Noddy found that he could fell the trees with his sharp hatchet quickly and easily. Four posts, with a crotch in the top of each, were set in the ground, forming the corners of the house. The frame was secured with nails and with ropes. The sides and the roof were then covered with the hibiscus from the grove. Noddy worked like a hero at his task, and Mollie watched him with the most intense interest; for he would not permit her to perform any of the hard labor.

The frame was up, and covered, but the house was like a sieve. It was the intention of the master builder to cover the roof with tough sods, and plaster up the crevices in the sides with mud. But Mollie thought the fore-topsail of the schooner would be better than sods and mud, though it was not half so romantic. They had whole casks of nails, small and large, and the sail was finally chosen, and securely nailed upon the roof and sides. A floor was made of the boards, and the house banked up so as to turn the water away from it when it rained. Two rooms, one for each of the exiles, were partitioned off with sail-cloth. A bunk was made in each, which was supplied with a berth-sack and bed-clothes from the schooner. Besides these two rooms, there was one apartment for general purposes.

This important work occupied three weeks; but it was perfectly luxurious when completed.



CHAPTER XIX.

THE VISITORS.

The house was finished, and the satisfaction which it afforded to the young exiles cannot be expressed in words. Noddy had exercised his ingenuity in the construction of a fireplace, a chimney, and a table. The stern-lights of the Roebuck furnished the windows of the principal apartment; while single panes of glass, obtained from the assorted cargo of the vessel, admitted the light to the sleeping-rooms. They had knives, forks, spoons, dishes, and cooking utensils in abundance. Everything they wanted was at hand; and in this respect they differed from all the Crusoes of ancient and modern times.

The miscellaneous cargo of the schooner supplied the house with all the comforts and many of the luxuries of civilization; and if Noddy had been familiar with the refinements of social life, he would probably have added the "modern improvements" to the mansion. If the house had been an elegant residence on Fifth Avenue or Blackstone Square, the occupants could not have enjoyed it more. Day after day Noddy added some new feature of comfort, until he was as proud of the dwelling as though he had been the architect of St. Peter's.

The work was done, and they had nothing to do but sit down under their "own vine and fig-tree," and enjoy themselves. They had provisions and water enough to last them six months. But Noddy had discovered that idleness was the sum of all miseries; and after he had thoroughly explored the island, and amused himself for a few days among the novelties of the place, he realized that work was a positive luxury. Even patient, plodding labor, without any excitement, was better than doing nothing.

Though there had been a storm, the Roebuck still held together; and the most profitable employment that presented itself was bringing off the rest of the cargo from the wreck; and everything which it was possible for him to move was transferred to the shore. He built a storehouse of sail-cloth, in which all the merchandise and provisions were carefully secured, though it was not probable that any considerable portion of it would ever be of any value to the islanders.

Noddy had built a fence around the grave of Captain McClintock, and on a smooth board had cut the name and age of the deceased. Every day Mollie visited the spot, and placed fresh flowers on the green sod. The sharp pangs of her great affliction had passed away, and she was cheerful, and even hopeful of the future, while she fondly cherished the memory of her father.

The islands which were just visible in the distance were a source of interest and anxiety to the sailor-boy and his gentle companion. Noddy had carefully examined them through the spy-glass a great many times; and once he had seen a large canoe, under sail, with a ponderous "out-rigger" to keep it from upsetting; but it did not come near the home of the exiles. This proved that the other islands were inhabited, and he was in constant dread of a visit from the savages. He put all the pistols he had found in the cabin in readiness for use, and practised firing at a mark, that he might be able to defend himself and his fair charge if occasion required. They did not come, and there were no signs on the island that they ever visited it, and he hoped to avoid the necessity of fighting them.

There were plenty of fish in the waters which surrounded the island, and Noddy had no difficulty in catching as many of them as he wanted. There were no animals to be seen, except a few sea-fowl. He killed one of these, and roasted him for dinner one day; but the flesh was so strong and so fishy that salt pork and corned beef were considered better.

A two months' residence on the island had accustomed both the boy and the girl to the novelties of the situation; and though, as might be reasonably expected, they were anxious to return to the great world from which they had been banished, they were tolerably contented with the life they led. Noddy was continually planning some new thing to add to the comfort of their daily life, and to provide supplies for the future. As in many large cities, a supply of pure water was a question, of momentous importance to him, and he early turned his attention to the subject. He made spouts of canvas for the "mansion" and the storehouse, by which the water, when it rained, was conducted to barrels set in the ground, so as to keep it cool. This expedient promised a plentiful supply, for the rains were heavy and frequent, and the quality was much better than that of the water casks.

When all the necessary work had been accomplished, and when the time at last hung heavily on his hands, Noddy began to consider the practicability of a garden, to keep up the supply of peas, beans, and potatoes, of which a considerable quantity had been obtained from the wreck. Mollie was delighted with the idea of a "farm," as she called it, and the ground was at once marked off. Noddy went to work; but the labor of digging up the soil, and preparing it for the seed, was very hard. There was no excitement about this occupation, and the laborer "punished" himself very severely in performing it; but work had become a principle with him, and he persevered until an incident occurred which suspended further operations on the garden, and gave him all the excitement his nature craved.

"What's that, Noddy?" said Mollie, one day, when he was industriously striving to overcome his dislike to plodding labor.

"Where?" asked he, dropping his shovel, for the manner of his companion betrayed no little alarm.

"On the water," replied she, pointing in the direction of the islands which had given them so much anxiety.

"It is a native canoe loaded with savages," said Noddy, hastening to the house for his spy-glass and pistols.

He examined the canoe long and attentively. It was only four or five miles distant, and looked like quite a large boat.

"They are coming here," said Noddy.

"O, what shall we do?" exclaimed the timid maiden, recalling all she knew about cannibals and fierce savages found on the South Sea Islands.

"Perhaps they will not come here," added Noddy; but it was more to cheer up his friend, than from any hope he cherished of avoiding the issue.

"I hope they will not. What do you think they will do to us, if they do?"

"I think I can manage them, Mollie. Don't be alarmed."

"How many are there in the canoe?"

"A dozen or fifteen, I should think," replied he, after he had again examined the object with the glass.

"What can you do with so many as that?" asked she, in despair.

"They are savages, you know; and they are afraid of powder. If I should shoot one of them, the rest would run away."

"Can't we hide?"

"That will do no good. They would certainly find us. The best way is to face the music."

"And they will steal all our things, Noddy."

"I won't let them steal anything," said he, examining his pistol.

"I hope you won't have to shoot any of them. It would be awful to kill the poor creatures."

"I won't fire if I can help it. They are all looking this way, and I'm sure they can see the house and the tent."

"What shall we do?" cried Mollie, who certainly felt that the end of all things had come.

"We can do nothing; and we may as well take it easy. I can't tell what to do now; but I think I will go down and hide the boat, for they may carry that off."

Mollie went with him to the inlet, and the boat was moved up among the bushes where the savages would not be likely to find it. The wind was light, and the great canoe advanced but slowly. The men on board of her appeared to be watching the island with as much interest as its occupants regarded the approach of the intruders.

Off the reef the big canoe came up into the wind, and the savages appeared to be debating what they should do next. They could see the remains of the wrecked schooner now; and the question appeared to be, whether they should visit that or the shore. But she soon filled away again, and passed through the opening in the reef. Noddy had three pistols, all of which he put in his belt, and finished this hostile array by adding a huge butcher-knife to the collection. He looked formidable enough to fight a whole army; but he intended only to make a prudent display of force. Mollie thought it was rather ridiculous for a small boy like him to load himself down with so many weapons, which could not avail him, if a conflict became necessary, against sixteen savages, full grown, and accustomed to fighting. But Noddy was general-in-chief of the forces, and she did not remonstrate any further than to beg him to be prudent.

The canoe slowly approached the shore. Those in her seemed to be familiar with the land, for they steered directly up the little inlet which Noddy had chosen as his landing-place. The "lord of the isle," as our sailor-boy felt himself to be, moved down to the shore, followed by Mollie. The savages could now be distinctly seen. They were horribly tattooed, and they did not look very friendly. As the canoe touched the shore, they sprang to their feet, and Noddy's calculations were set at nought by the discovery that several were armed with guns.

One of them stepped on shore. There was a broad grin on his ugly face, which was intended for a conciliatory smile. The savage walked towards Noddy with his hand extended, and with his mouth stretched open from ear to ear, to denote the friendly nature of his mission. The boy took the hand, and tried to look as amiable as the visitor; but as his mouth was not half so large, he probably met with only a partial success.

"Americals?" said the savage, in tones so loud that poor Mollie was actually frightened by the sound.

He spoke in a nasal voice, as a man does who has a cold in the head; but the lord of the isle was surprised and pleased to hear even a single word of his mother tongue. He pointed impressively to the American flag, which had been hoisted on a pole, as he had seen Captain McClintock do when he had a slight difficulty with a custom-house officer at Barbadoes, and politely replied that he and Mollie were Americans.

"Big heap thigs," added the savage, pointing to the tent filled with stores and merchandise.

"They are mine," said Noddy.

"Americals—yes."

"What do you want?"

"Big wreck," said the visitor, pointing over to the schooner. "Big lot mel ol the other islal."

"Americans?" asked Noddy, clearly understanding the speaker, whose enunciation was principally defective in the substitution of l's for n's.

"Four Americals; big storm; come in boat."

"Do you hear that, Mollie?" exclaimed Noddy. "He says that four Americans came to the other island in a boat."

"They must be some of the crew of the Roebuck."

"Big wreck; log time; fild it low," said the savage, pointing to the schooner again.

They had been looking for the wreck from which the four men had been saved, but had not been able to find it before.

"Whale ship over there," added he. "Take four mel off."

"Is she there now?" asked Noddy, breathless with interest.

"Go sool—to-morrow—lext week."

This was not very definite; but the way to his native land seemed to be open to him, and he listened with deep emotion to the welcome intelligence.

"Can we go over there?" asked Noddy, pointing to his companion.

"Go with we."

"We will."

"Big heap thigs," added the savage, pointing to the storehouse again. "Walt to trade?"

"Yes; what will you give for the lot?" asked Noddy, facetiously.

"Big heap thigs," replied the man, not comprehending the wholesale trade.

It was of no use to attempt to bargain with these people; they had no money, and they could help themselves to what they pleased. Noddy gave them heavy articles enough to load their boat, for he felt that he had no further use for them, if there was a whale ship at the other island. He questioned the savage very closely in regard to the vessel, and was satisfied that he spoke the truth. The welcome intelligence that a portion of the Roebuck's crew had been saved, rendered the exiles the more anxious to visit the island.

The savages all landed and gazed at Mollie with the utmost interest and curiosity. Probably they had never before seen an American girl. But they were respectful to her, and she soon ceased to be afraid of them. She laughed with them, and soon became quite intimate with the whole party. They treated her like a superior being; and certainly her pretty face and her gentle manners were quite enough to inspire them with such an idea.

The savages had loaded their goods into the canoe, and were ready to return. The man who spoke English offered them a passage in his craft; but Noddy decided that it would be better and safer for them to go over in their own boat. He proceeded to secure all his valuables, including all his own money and that he had saved from the state-room of the captain, which he concealed about his clothes. The boat was well loaded with such articles as he thought would be useful to Mollie, or would sell best when a chance offered. He had quite a cargo, and the savages began to be impatient before his preparations were completed.

While he was thus employed, Mollie gathered fresh flowers, and paid her last visit, as she supposed, to the grave of her father. She wept there, as she thought of leaving him in that far-off, lonely island; but she was consoled by the belief that her father's spirit dwelt in the happy land, where spring eternal ever reigns.

The boat was ready; she wiped away her tears, and stepped on board. Both of them felt sad at the thought of leaving the island; but home had hopes which reconciled them to the change.



CHAPTER XX.

HOMEWARD BOUND.

Noddy shook out the sail of the boat, and pushing her off, followed the canoe. Though the exiles had been on the island but little over two months, they had become much attached to their new home, and it was with a feeling of sadness that they bade adieu to it. The house and other improvements had cost Noddy so much hard labor that he was sorry to leave them before he had received the full benefit of all the comfort and luxury which they were capable of affording.

"Don't you think we ought to live on the island for a year or so, after all the work we have done there?" said Noddy, as the boat gathered headway, and moved away from the shore.

"I'm sure I should be very happy there, if we had to stay," replied Mollie, "But I don't think I should care to remain just for the sake of living in the house you built."

"Nor I; but it seems to me just as though I had done all the work for nothing."

"You worked very hard."

"But I enjoyed my work, for all that."

"And you think you did not win anything by it," added she, with a smile.

"I don't think that. I used to hate to work when I was at Woodville. I don't think I do hate it now."

"Then you have won something."

"I think I have won a great deal, when I look the matter over. I have learned a great many things."

Noddy had only a partial appreciation of what he had "won," though he was satisfied that his labor had not been wasted. He had been happy in the occupation which the necessities of his situation demanded of him. Many a boy, wrecked as he had been, with no one but a weak and timid girl to support him, would have done nothing but repine at his hard lot; would have lived "from hand to mouth" during those two months, and made every day a day of misery. Noddy had worked hard; but what had he won? Was his labor, now that he was to abandon the house, the cisterns, the stores, and the garden,—was it wasted?

Noddy had won two months of happiness.

He had won a knowledge of his own powers, mental and physical.

He had won a valuable experience in adapting means to ends, which others might be years in obtaining.

He had won a vast amount of useful information from the stubborn toil he had performed.

He had won the victory over idleness and indifference, which had beset him for years.

He had won a cheerful spirit, from the trials and difficulties he had encountered.

He had won a lively faith in things higher than earth, from the gentle and loving heart that shared his exile, for whom, rather than for himself, he had worked.

His labor was not lost. He had won more than could be computed. He had won faith and hope, confidence in himself, an earnest purpose, which were to go through life with him, and bless him to the end of his days, and through the endless ages of eternity. He had worked earnestly; he had won untold riches.

The wind was tolerably fresh after the boats passed the reef, and in two hours they were near enough to a large island to enable the young voyagers to see the objects on the shore. But they followed the canoe beyond a point of the land; and, after a run of several miles more, they rounded another point, and discovered the tall masts of a ship, at anchor in a small bay.

"It may be many months before we can get home. This ship may have to cruise a year or two before she obtains her full cargo of oil."

"I hope not."

"But we may find some way to get home. I have all the money I saved from the vessel, and we can pay our passage home."

The money reminded the orphan girl of her father, and she mused upon the past. The boat sped on its way, and in a short time reached the ship.

"Hallo, Noddy!" shouted Mr. Lincoln, as the boat approached. "And Mollie too!"

The mate was overjoyed to see them, and to find that they had been saved from the wreck. He leaped into the boat, took Mollie in his arms, and kissed her as though she had been his own child. He grasped the hand of Noddy, and wrung it till the owner thought it would be crushed in his grip.

"I was sure you were lost," said Mr. Lincoln.

"And we were sure you were lost," replied Noddy.

"How did it happen? The cabin was full of water when we left the schooner."

"You didn't wait long, Mr. Lincoln."

"We couldn't wait long. The sea made a clean breach over the wreck. Only four of us were saved; the rest were washed away, and we never saw anything more of them!"

Noddy and Mollie were conducted to the deck of the whale ship, where they were warmly welcomed by the captain and his officers. The three sailors who had been saved from the wreck of the Roebuck were rejoiced to see them alive and well. In the presence of the large group gathered around himself and Mollie, Noddy told his story.

"Captain McClintock was lost, then?"

"Yes," replied Noddy, breaking through the crowd, for he did not like to tell the particulars of his death in poor Mollie's presence.

At a later hour he found an opportunity to inform his late shipmates of the manner in which the corpse of the captain had been found, and of its burial on the island. In return, Mr. Lincoln told him that he had cast off the boat a moment after the schooner struck the reef. The men who happened to be on the quarter-deck with him had been saved; the others were not seen after the shock. With the greatest difficulty they had kept the boat right side up, for she was often full of water. For hours they had drifted in the gale, and in the morning, when the storm subsided, they had reached the island.

They had been kindly treated by natives, who were partially civilized by their intercourse with vessels visiting the island, and with which they carried on commerce, exchanging the products of the island for guns, ammunition, and other useful and ornamental articles. The savages knew that, if they killed or injured any white men, the terrible ships of war would visit them with the severest punishment.

"What ship is this?" asked Noddy, when the past had been satisfactorily explained by both parties.

"The Atlantic, of New Bedford," replied the mate. "She is full of oil, and is homeward bound."

"Good!" exclaimed Noddy. "I suppose I have nothing further to do in this part of the world, and I may as well go in her."

"This hasn't been a very profitable cruise to me," added Mr. Lincoln.

"Well, I suppose there is no help for it; and I hope you will have better luck next time."

"I don't grumble; these things can't always be helped. We were lucky to escape with our lives, and we won't say a word about the wages we have lost."

"Perhaps you won't lose them," added Mollie; and there was a slight flush on her fair cheeks, for her pride and her filial affection were touched by the reflection that these men had suffered from her father's infirmity.

The captain of the whale ship was entirely willing to take the exiles as passengers; and Noddy told him he had saved a great many articles, which might be of service to him. The next day, when the vessel had taken in her water, she sailed for the beautiful island. Outside the reef she lay to, and the boats were sent on shore to bring off such of the goods as would be useful on the voyage.

Noddy and Mollie had an opportunity to visit their island home once more; and, while the former assisted the men in selecting and loading the goods, the latter gathered fresh flowers, and for the last time strewed them on the grave of her father.

The "big heap thigs" was very much reduced by the visit of the boats; but there was still enough left to reward the natives who had befriended the young islanders for the service they had rendered. According to the captain's estimate,—which was rather low,—he took about four hundred dollars' worth of goods from the island. Mollie, as her father's heir, was the owner of the property, subject to Noddy's claim for salvage. With Mr. Lincoln's aid the accounts were settled. Mollie insisted upon paying the mate and the three seamen their wages up to the time they would reach their native land. This, with their own passage, consumed nearly the whole sum.

Besides the property saved from the island, there were about sixteen hundred dollars in gold and silver, and the valuable nautical instruments of Captain McClintock, making a total of over two thousand dollars. Though the disposition of this property was properly a subject for the maritime courts to settle, Mr. Lincoln and the officers of the ship talked it over, and decided that one half belonged to Mollie, in right of her father, and the other half to Noddy, as salvage,—which is the part of property saved from a wrecked imperilled ship, awarded to those who save it.

Noddy at first positively objected to this decree, and refused to take a dollar from the poor orphan girl; but when the captain told him that a court would probably award him a larger share, and when Mollie almost cried because he refused, he consented to take it; but it was with a determination to have it applied to her use when he got home. The whale ship filled away when the goods had been taken on board, and weeks and months she stood on her course, till the welcome shores of their native land gladdened the sight of the exiled children. Mollie had been a great favorite with the officers and crew during the voyage, and many of them were the wiser and the better for the gentle words she spoke to them. The captain sold the nautical instruments, and the money was divided according to the decision of the council and officers. Noddy was now the possessor of about twelve hundred dollars, which was almost a fortune to a boy of twelve. It had been "work and win" to some purpose, in spite of the disastrous conclusion of the voyage.



CHAPTER XXI.

THE CLERGYMAN AND HIS WIFE.

The captain of the whale ship very kindly took the young voyagers to his own house until their affairs were settled up. He had dealt fairly and justly by them in all things, and both were grateful to him for the interest he had manifested in their welfare.

"What are you going to do now, Noddy?" asked Mollie, after the instruments had been sold and the proceeds paid over to them.

"I'm going to Woodville, now, to face the music," replied Noddy. "I suppose they will take me to the court-house; but I have made up my mind to submit to the penalty, whatever it may be, for setting the boat-house afire."

"Fanny has told all about it before this time, you may be certain," added Mollie, to whom he had related the story of the fire.

"I hope she has not; for I think I am the guilty one. She wouldn't have set the fire if it hadn't been for me. I am going to stand right up to it, and take the consequences, even if they send me to prison; but I hope they won't do that."

"I'm sure they won't. But, Noddy, suppose Miss Fanny has not told the truth yet. Will you still deceive your kind friends? You told me you had been made over new since you left Woodville, and I know you have. You said you meant to live a good life, and not lie, or steal, or get angry, or do anything that is bad."

"Well, I mean so, Mollie. I intend to stick to it. They won't know anything about that. They won't believe anything I say."

"They must believe you. I'll go with you, Noddy!" exclaimed she, smiling at the happy thought. "I will tell them all about you."

"That will be jolly; and the sooner we go the better."

Their good friend the captain found a gentleman who was going to New York, and they accompanied him, though Noddy felt abundantly able to take care of himself and his fair charge. They arrived the next morning, and took an early train for Woodville.

Noddy conducted Mollie down the road to the lawn in front of the house. His heart bounded with emotion as he once more beheld the familiar scenes of the past. As he walked along he pointed out to his interested companion the various objects which were endeared to him by former associations. He talked because he could not help it; for he was so agitated he did not know whether he was on his head or his heels. He heard a step on one of the side paths. He turned to see who it was, and Bertha Grant rushed towards him.

"Why, Noddy! It that you?" cried she, grasping him with both hands. "I am so glad to see you!"

"You'd better believe I'm glad to see you again," said he, trying to keep from crying.

The poor fellow actually broke down, he was so much affected by the meeting.

"I didn't expect to see you again for years, after the letter you wrote me."

"Been cast away, Miss Bertha, and lived two months on an island where nobody lived," blubbered Noddy.

"Who is this little girl with you? Is this Mollie, of whom you spoke in your letter?"

"Yes, Miss Bertha, that's Mollie; and she is the best girl in the world, except yourself."

"I'm very glad to see you, Mollie," said Bertha, taking her hand, and giving her a kind reception. "Now, come into the house."

Bertha, finding Noddy so completely overcome by his emotions, refrained from asking him any more questions, though she was anxious to hear the sad story of the shipwreck. Mr. Grant had not yet gone to the city, and he received the returned exiles as though they had been his own children.

"I've come back, Mr. Grant, to settle up old affairs, and you can send me to the court-house or the prison now. I did wrong, and I am willing to suffer for it."

"I have told them all about it, Noddy," interrupted Miss Fanny, blushing. "I couldn't stand it after you went away."

"It was my fault," said Noddy. "I said so then, and I say so now."

"We won't say anything about that until after breakfast. We are very glad you have come back; and we don't care about thinking of anything else, at present," said Mr. Grant.

Breakfast was provided for the wanderer and his friend, and Mollie was soon made quite at home by the kind attentions of Bertha and Fanny. When the meal was ended, Noddy insisted upon "settling up old affairs," as he called it. He declared that the blame ought to rest on him, and he was willing to suffer. Mr. Grant said that he was satisfied. Fanny was to blame, and she had already been severely punished for her fault.

"You will not send poor Noddy to prison—will you?" interposed Mollie. "He is a good boy now. He saved my life, and took care of me for months. You will find that he is not the same Noddy, he used to be. He is made over new."

"I'm glad to hear that," replied Mr. Grant. "But Noddy, did you really think I intended to send you to jail?"

"Yes, sir; what was the constable after me for, if not for that?"

"It's a mistake, and I told you so in Albany. Didn't I say you would be a rich man?"

"You did, sir; but I thought that was only to catch me. All of them said something of that sort. I knew I couldn't be a rich man, because my father never had a cent to leave me. That's what they told me."

"But you had an uncle."

"Never heard of him," replied Noddy, bewildered at the prospect before him.

"Your father's only brother died in California more than a year ago. He had no family; but an honest man who went with him knew where he came from; and Squire Wriggs has hunted up all the evidence, which fully proves that all your uncle's property, in the absence of other heirs, belongs to you. He left over thirty thousand dollars, and it is all yours."

"Dear me!" exclaimed Noddy, utterly confounded by this intelligence.

"This sum, judiciously invested, will produce at least fifty thousand when you are of age. I have been appointed your guardian."

"I don't think I'm Noddy Newman after this," added the heir, in breathless excitement.

"I know you are not," added Bertha, laughing. "Your real name is Ogden Newman."

"How are you, Ogden?" said Noddy, amused at his new name.

"I suppose Noddy came from Ogden," said Mr. Grant.

"If that's what's the matter, I don't see what you wanted to take me to court for."

"As you have come to years of discretion, you might have had the privilege of naming your own guardian; and we were going to take you to the court for that purpose. As you were not here to speak for yourself, I was appointed. If you are not satisfied, the proceedings can be reviewed."

"I'm satisfied first rate," laughed Noddy. "But you said something about sending me off."

"My plan was to send you to the Tunbrook Military Institute, where Richard is, and make a man of you."

"I should like that—perhaps."

"You gave me a great deal of trouble to find you; and I did not succeed, after all," added Mr. Grant.

"I didn't know what you was after. If I had, I shouldn't have been in such a hurry. But I guess it was all for the best. I've been at work, Miss Bertha, since I went away," said Noddy, turning to his teacher and friend.

"Did you win?"

"I rather think I did," replied he, depositing his twelve hundred dollars on the table. "That's rather better than being a tinker, I reckon, Miss Bertha."

"O, if you had seen him work. He did things which a great man could not have done," said Mollie, with enthusiasm. "And he's real good, too. He'll never do anything wrong again."

"We must hear all about it now, Ogden," continued Mr. Grant.

"Who?"

"Ogden; that's your name now."

Between Noddy and Mollie the story was told; and there was hardly a dry eye in the room when the parts relating to the yellow fever and the funeral of Captain McClintock were narrated. Noddy told the burden of the story; but he was occasionally interrupted by Mollie, who wanted to tell how her friend watched over her and her father when they were sick with the fever, and what kindness and consideration he had used in procuring and burying the remains of her father. Noddy only told facts; she supplied what she regarded as very important omissions.

When the narrative was finished, Mr. Grant, and Bertha were willing to believe that Noddy had been made over new; that he had worked, morally as well as physically, and won, besides the treasure on the table, good principles enough to save him from the errors which formerly beset him; had won a child's faith in God, and a man's confidence in himself. The whole family were deeply interested in Mollie; they pitied and loved her; and as she had no near relatives, they insisted upon her remaining at Woodville.

"This is your money, Ogden, and I suppose I am to invest it with the rest of your property," said Mr. Grant.

"No, sir;" replied Noddy, promptly. "You know how I got that money, and I don't think it belongs to me. Besides, I'm rich, and don't want it. Mollie must have every dollar of it."

"Bravo, Noddy," exclaimed Mr. Grant. "I approve of that with all my heart."

"Why, no, Noddy. You earned it all," said Mollie. "One hundred dollars of it was yours before the wreck."

"I don't care for that. Mr. Grant shall take care of the whole of it for you, or you may take it, as you please."

Mollie was in the minority, and she had to yield the point; and Mr. Grant was instructed to invest all she had, being the entire net proceeds of what was saved from the wreck.

After the story had been told, all the young people took a walk on the estate, during which Noddy saw Ben and the rest of the servants. The old man was delighted to meet him again, and the others were hardly less rejoiced. The boat-house had been rebuilt. It was winter, and every craft belonging to the establishment was housed.

In the spring, Noddy, or Ogden, as he was now called, was sent to the Tunbrook Institute; while Bertha found a faithful pupil, and Fanny a devoted friend, in Mollie.

Three months at Woodville convinced Mr. Grant and Bertha that the change in Noddy was radical and permanent. Though not now required to work, he was constantly employed in some useful occupation. He was no longer an idler and a vagabond, but one of the most industrious, useful, and reliable persons on the estate.

He did not work with his hands only. There was a work for the mind and the heart to do, and he labored as perseveringly and as successfully in this field as in the other. At Tunbrook he was a hard student, and graduated with the highest intellectual honors. From there he went to college.

The influence of those scenes when the yellow fever was raging around him, when the stormy ocean threatened to devour him, and perhaps more than all others, when he stood at the open, grave of Captain McClintock, was never obliterated from his mind. They colored his subsequent existence; and when he came to choose a profession, he selected that of a minister of the gospel.

The Rev. Ogden Newman is not, and never will be, a brilliant preacher; but he is a faithful and devoted "shepherd of the sheep." The humble parish over whose moral and spiritual welfare he presides is not more rejoiced and comforted by his own ministrations than by the loving words and the pure example of the gentle being who now walks hand in hand with him in the journey of life, cheered by his presence and upheld by his strong arm, as she was in the days of the storm and the pestilence. Mollie McClintock is Mrs. Ogden Newman; and as together they work, together they shall win.



* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

Page 15, "fond" changed to "found" (found a ready)

Page 28, line of repeated text was deleted. The original text read:

except so far as their words went to convince his mistress of his guilt. What would she do to him? mistress of his guilt. What would she do to him?

Page 119, "rooom" changed to "room" (pleasant room he)

Page 126, "vanguished" changed to "vanquished" (was again vanquished)

Page 220, line of repeated text was deleted. The original text read:

"Come, Mollie," said he, in a gentle, subdued tone, at the fore-scuttle. tone; at the fore-scuttle.

Page 222, "tremling" changed to "trembling" (prayer in trembling)

THE END