Schillie.—"All this shrubby stuff about here, looking something like Jerusalem artichoke, is ginger I think."

Mother.—"Yes, it is, so we will take some home, as it is very good for Madame. What nice large roots it has, but I don't call it a shrub. Shrubs are bushy things."

Schillie.—"Call it what you like, so we may have some preserved. I could eat it for breakfast, dinner, and tea. Now, here are your boots and shoes growing on this Ita palm. Look, my knowing little book says the leaves are enclosed in cases, which serve for shoes, and this is the exact description of these tall fellows. Now, June, if we can only take some home to Jenny she will be as pleased as Punch, and so shall I, for I did not think your fidgetiness would end in such a fine encouraging manner."

Mother.—"But, good lack, as you say, how are we ever to get at them; this tree must be at least a hundred feet high, and all the others seem bigger, and all the leaves are at the top; almost sky-high they look."

Schillie.—"We must cut one down, there is no help for it. I will run home for a couple of hatchets, and mind you don't stir from hence until I return, and don't get eaten up, for your life, by anything."

Mother.—"Suppose you bring the girls with you; we shall never cut it down ourselves without aching all over, and they will be so glad to get out of school."

Schillie.—"I'll be bound they will. But first I shall say only those are to come out who have been good, for the pleasure of seeing Miss Gatty screw up her countenance into ineffable disgust, for I know she will have been naughty."

Mother.—"You know you will do nothing of the sort, but, on the contrary, say that Gatty is more wanted than the others."

Schillie.—"I confess I have a weakness for that child, she is so preposterously mischievous."

Mother.—"Now I have a weakness for her, because she is like the knights of old, 'the soul of honour.' Now she fires up, and now she ruins her pocket handkerchiefs if anything is said derogatory to her own country or to her Queen. Did you hear or rather see her this morning while they were reading their history, when Madame praised Napoleon Buonaparte at the expense of the Duke of Wellington?"

Schillie.—"Yes. I misdoubt me that I shall find her in sad disgrace. She will have endeavoured to soothe her wounded feelings by putting spiders on Sybil, changing Serena's book, mislaying Madame's alderman, which is neither more nor less than the name Gatty has given that great fat pencil with which Madame marks their books, and rat-ta-ta-tals them up when they are looking dull and stupid."

Mother.—"Don't come without her, however, for she is the strongest. It's a pity Sybil is so good as never to be in disgrace, for her little delicate fingers are of no use in such a case."

Schillie.—"Indeed Sybil and Serena are too stupid for anything. They learn all their books, they like all their lessons, they agree to all Madame's crinkums crankums, and they are so horridly good, it quite puts me out."

Mother.—"Pooh, nonsense. If we had three Gattys here we should find the island too hot to hold us. Be content at having two of the best girls in the world to deal with."

Schillie.—"I must say Serena is a tip-top girl, she makes Miss Gatty look about her; but I must be off."

During her absence, I sat down upon an old stump of a tree, and by and by I heard a little rustling in the bushes, out of which came a sort of animal like a large rat, but it had a flat tail, and each side of this tail was adorned with hair like fringe. It looked at me steadily, and, except its tail, was not an ugly creature. I did not choose to be frightened; but still as another and another came, and all stood steadily gazing at me, I had a sort of qualm that some rats fly at one's throat, and, though not really injured, I might perhaps get severely bitten if they attacked me. I was therefore glad to hear the merry voices in the distance coming nearer and nearer; and, as the rats heard the unusual sounds, they slunk away as if by magic, for I could hardly perceive the movement by which they disappeared.

Schillie (quite breathless).—"Well, here you are quite safe. I am always so afraid when I leave you that you get into some mischief. But you have seen something, I know by your face."

Mother.—"Then don't look as if I was injured. I have only seen some odd-looking sorts of rats with flat tails."

Schillie.—"Then Otty must come with his gun and shoot them, for I dare say now that snake is dead the animals of all kinds will increase very much. I only wish there was a snake among the gnat tribe. Anything like the way in which I am teased by things biting me is not to be described."

The girls were delighted with the business set before them, and even Madame appeared with a hatchet in her delicate fingers, but without being able to make even an apology of a stroke.

When the tree was down, we proceeded to shoe ourselves, intent upon delighting and surprising Jenny. But we never regarded a gummy substance exuding from all parts of the tree, which plagued us for some time afterwards, destroying the stockings, and very, very difficult to get off, also blistering the skin a little, but these sheathes for the leaves of the Ita palm really made capital shoes. We had only to dry them a little in the sun. They did not however last very long, and it was no uncommon thing for the boys to want a new pair every day. Notwithstanding there being such an abundance of these naturally-growing ready-made shoes, we were not sorry at the ingenious invention of Sybil and Serena, who, after repeated efforts, contrived to plait most excellent shoes out of grass.

One day, penetrating a little farther than usual, we came to a rich little glen, running down to the sea. Here, digging up some plants, as was our usual custom, to make fresh discoveries, we found the mould of a beautiful bright red colour; this shaded off into deep chocolate or bright yellow. We could not discover any metallic substance in it, or that it tasted of anything, but it painted our fingers whenever we touched it, and when first turned up was glossy and shining. Near this place grew some sugar canes, curiously striped, and a tree or shrub, seven or eight feet high, with an oblong hairy pod; something like a chestnut, hanging to it; inside were about thirty or forty seeds, buried in a pulp of bright red colour, smelling rather fragrant. We found out afterwards that these seeds were good for fevers, and the pulp made very good red paint.

The tobacco plant we all knew very well. It grew in the most rank manner here. But one of the most lovely trees we had yet discovered was one twenty feet high, with a grey, smooth, shining trunk, apparently destitute of bark. It had beautiful dark green leaves, with an astonishing profusion of white flowers, so deliciously fragrant, that we sat to the wind side of it with the greatest delight. It had berries on it, out of which squeezed a sweet oil smelling of cloves.

We did not like the situation of our house nearly so much as on the cliffs; we had so little air, and were so much tormented by insects of all kinds. Some of the ant hills were at least three feet high; and upon merely walking near them, the angry little inhabitants came swarming out in multitudes to resent the supposed injury.

On the cactuses, which grew very large, and in a most luxuriant manner, we discovered what we supposed were the insects for making cochineal, but we did not think that a grand discovery, but, on the contrary, thought the cotton plant a much greater gift.

I had been used to spin when in Scotland, having taken a fancy to the thing. But, not all the wishes in the world could produce a spinning wheel, so I kept my desires secret until I saw some hope of accomplishment. Every day each person had to bring in their quota of discoveries and additions to our larder and stores, for, though we knew nothing about the climate we imagined ourselves looking remarkably silly, should bad weather come on, and find us unprovided.

Taking one day as a specimen for all the rest, after three hours exploring, in different parties, we produced our treasures, as follows:—Madame had gathered a number of small reeds or rushes, out of which she had concocted two very pretty and useful baskets, one of which had been immediately appropriated by a hen. For, while she was busy with the other, this hen thought she had never beheld so cosy a nest, and, therefore, laid an egg in it. This was of course given to Madame, for her supper, as a reward for her ingenuity. Schillie came dragging with her, besides innumerable other plants and curiosities, an enormous root, as thick as her waist.

Schillie.—"Now then, young ones, come round and see what this is. You see when I cut it what milky stuff flows from it."

"Yes," said they, "we see; may we not have some to put into our own tea? It is so nasty without milk."

Schillie.—"For goodness sake, brats, don't be so rash, it's rank poison."

Mother, Madame, and a whole Chorus.—"Then, what good is it to us?"

Schillie.—"Well! don't make such a row, and you shall see. Here, Jenny, you and some of the young ladies help me to rasp or scrape it up, but, for your life don't let it touch the skin, or you may die, but, at all events, you may get blisters on your hands."

Mother (very cross).—"How can you be so absurd, Schillie, as to bring such a dangerous thing amongst the children?"

Schillie.—"Now, pray, keep yourself quiet until I have hurt one of them. You told me to make discoveries, and this is a superb one. Now, we have got a good heap. Fetch a cloth, Jenny, pop it in; now hold one while I hold the other, and twist and squeeze as if Master Felix's life depended thereon. And now behold."

So opening the cloth we discovered some nice white flowery-looking stuff, which she declared was tapioca, and which we discovered made most excellent bread. We really voted this discovery of the cassada root quite a grand discovery, though I was always very fidgety about the poisonous milk in it. But the loaves made from the flower were delicious. She, of course, had many more things to show us, but I will only take one from each of us. Sybil had been indefatigable in her search for hemp, and had found a species of grass, which she had beaten between two stones in the water, and it had spread into innumerable fine threads, so that hers was a most valuable discovery. Serena had found a perfect horde of turtle's eggs, besides eggs innumerable of all kinds of birds. Gatty, we all knew, could not have discovered much, for she had been running from one Mother to another, flying off again to the girls, helping the little ones in innumerable difficulties, and doing anything but minding her own duties. However, nothing undaunted, she opened an apology for a handkerchief, and out waddled a large odd crab, for which Schillie greatly applauded her, and said she would have him boiled for supper. "But I have discovered something else," said Gatty, with a mischievous twinkling of her eyes, and opening a paper box, out sprang a horrible spider, three inches round I am sure, black and hairy, faintly spotted. Madame and Sybil fled, the little ones shrieked, Schillie scolded, and in the midst of the uproar the spider bolted, and peace was restored. Zoe had discovered a beautiful species of jessamine tree, most fragrant in smell, and on which, for a wonder, there were no insects whatever, and she therefore supposed it must be something good.

We found out that no ants would touch the wood, so it proved very useful to us. Winny bent and quivered under the weight of an enormous curiously-shaped gourd, and triumphantly declared her discovery was nearly as big as the little Mother's. "But it is no discovery, little one," said Serena, "for we have had gourds before." "But it is a discovery," persisted the little one, "for it is such a big fellow, and it has a growing in and a growing out, quite unlike the others." So we thanked her warmly, and Jenny said she was and had been undone to possess a gourd of that very particular shape. Lilly had discovered so many wonderful things (upon supposition) that we contented ourselves with thanking her for some large and useful shells which would serve for many purposes. The boys had been so intent on manufacturing fishing lines that they had spent their time wandering vaguely about, hoping fishing lines would fall from the skies for them, but as no such thing happened, they had pulled long hairy lines from the cactuses, and they had also brought in their pockets a fruit like an apple outside, but it was full of an insipid kind of custard. Jenny had got some sand for scouring her floors and kettles, also she said she had got a plant that looked like one in an old book she had, from which they made soap. This we found correct, and it proved a most valuable discovery; it was called the soap-wort. Hargrave had contented herself with gathering the most beautiful flowers she could see, at the same time bewailing over their rapid destruction, only wishing that they were artificial ones that she might ornament the young ladies' dresses. It was on this day that my discovery consisted of the cinnamon tree. But all this will appear tedious, so I will go on to the time when we were roused from our discoveries, pretty walks, out-door amusements, and healthy exercise, by a terrific thunder storm.



CHAPTER XXV.

We had become somewhat accustomed to the storms, and, though this one was terrific, and also followed by no interval of sunshine to break us in for the wet weather, yet our condition was so greatly ameliorated, we thought but little of it. Our house was waterproof even when the rain came down like the sea itself pouring over us. The wind was furious, but the nook we had selected was most sheltered, and, but for the uproar it made among the trees, we should have hardly known the real extent of the hurricane. Sometimes the thunder cracking over our heads awoke us in the night, and we congregated together for companionship and comfort. In the day-time we were very busy; I was inventing a spinning wheel; Schillie and the girls concocting chessmen; the boys knocking up shelves, seats, and boxes; the maids labouring through a perfect haycock of rent clothes and damaged stockings; somebody always singing, and sometimes that somebody was everybody. In the evening, Madame played, and everybody danced for an hour by the light of one candle; when breathless and tired, stories were told, each taking it in turn. A quick and pleasant three weeks passed, for which we daily thanked the Giver of all good.

When the sun shone once more our occupations were innumerable, leaving us no leisure from early morn, until the darkness came. What with gardening, lessons, manufacturing food and clothes, we had our hands full. It was astonishing to see how active the young ones were in turning everything to use; how quick and clever they became in all sorts of ways that belonged more to older heads. It is true there were some symptoms of fine ladyism that grumbled at washing clothes, grinding sand, and cleaning up dirty dishes; the latter was carried to so great a height that Zoe and Lilly came to me with a flat refusal to wash the breakfast plates. "Why?" said I. "Because they are so dirty," said they. "Very well," said I, "you need not do it." But they never objected again to any work, for their dirty plates were put before them, without any remark, each day, until they washed them of their own accord; and the elder girls let slip no opportunity of commenting upon fine ladies, who expressed great anxiety to help others, but must have the plates cleaned before they could wash or wipe them, and supposed they must have people to sweep the way before them, others to hand their food to their mouths. In fact, the irony ran so high, and was felt so sorely, that a private petition was sent in to have it stopped. This I was most glad to do, for our meals had been rendered a little unpleasant by mortified tears bedewing the face of the gentle Zoe, while indignant sobs and haughty looks betokened the harassed feelings of the high-spirited Lilly.

As may be supposed, we had many conversations regarding our future fate, and the probability of passing our days in this island.

Mother.—"It is the idea which always makes me so anxious, Schillie, to retain every possible memorial of our civilized life. Should our children and their descendants remain on this island, they will live to thank the Mother who worries you so with all the spinning, weaving, and other inventions that tease you."

Schillie.—"So you expect the children to marry, do you? Well, there will be plenty of old maids left to keep up the civilized art of scandal, seeing there are but two husbands for these six girls."

Felix.—"Don't call me a husband, cousin Schillie, for I don't intend to marry."

Oscar.—"I don't mind marrying Gatty, because she will go out shooting with me."

Schillie.—"And what has set you against matrimony, you imp of mischief?"

Felix.—"Why I don't like being called grandfather, and so I won't marry and have grandchildren."

This unfortunate announcement drew upon him the fate he wished to avoid, and, spite of his indignation, and tears, "grandfather" became his sobriquet until they were tired of the joke.

But we renewed our conversation, and, though I used my best arguments, and had Madame on my side, and though the battle waxed hot and loud, and was oft renewed between us, I never could get Schillie to allow that it was of the slightest use our thus exerting ourselves. This surprised me a good deal, for she had so much plain good sense, and was so naturally clever, and gifted with such brains for invention and concoction, that I expected to find her the champion of my plans, instead of the damper she proved. The hot and relaxing climate might have had some effect on her constitution, or the good hope she always carried about with her that we were not to remain here for ever, might make her reluctant to take trouble for nothing.

But it proved always in the end, the more busy and interested we were in our occupations the quicker time went, and less of it was spent in those vain regrets and idle wishes that left wounds on the heart which nothing could heal.

In justice, I must say, when fairly roused, none worked so hard or so well and the little workpeople had to look sharply about them when she was in superintendence.

She was in a cross mood one day, when she discovered me writing.

Schillie.—"What can you be doing, June?"

Mother (hesitating a little).—"I am writing a journal."

Schillie.—"Now, pray, tell me for what purpose."

Mother.—"It will be interesting to us to recur to some day; or it will serve to enlighten our own descendants, should we never leave this place."

Schillie.—"Well, I could not think you would be so absurd. Who wants to recall this horrible time; or what possible interest can you put into the details of such a life as ours."

Mother.—"I grant it's very difficult, but you are at liberty to look at it."

Schillie (reading).—"Ha! a thunderstorm (very interesting). Another (truly pathetic). Felix ill (the dear pet, how sorry his grandchildren will be to hear it). Gatty in mischief (when is she ever out of it?) Schillie worked the most of all (and what has she got to do besides?) Very merry tea (what a fib, when we have had no tea this month). Sybil so amiable (yes, quite mawkishly so). Our dear captain (good me! what a monody). The good Smart (perfect epitaphs over them all, pity they are not in rhyme). Well, June, of all the nonsense I ever read your journal seems the crown thereof."

Mother.—"I don't pretend to write anything amusing, for how can I with so few incidents; only I wished to keep a sort of journal."

Schillie.—"It seems to me nothing but about the children, how they were naughty and how they got good again. Why don't you write the geological structure of the island, the botanical history, and a whole account of the birds and beasts."

Mother.—"That I leave for your abler head and pen."

Schillie.—"Then it will never be done. I hate the place so much, I would not record a single thing about it."

Mother.—"If that is the case, leave my poor journal alone. I grant it is everything you say, dull, stupid, and monotonous, nevertheless, I have a fancy to keep it."

Schillie.—"Then, pray, indulge your fancy, and, in addition to keeping your journal, keep it locked up, for it is quite enough to endure all the children's twaddle, without writing it down."

My spinning-wheel answered remarkably well; but all my spinning was of little avail, as we had no idea of weaving. Schillie promised if she was not bothered by having to build more houses, she would try her hand at inventing a weaving machine the next rainy season. Luckily my yarn or thread was as coarse as needs be, and answered very well for crocheting and knitting. In both these arts we became wonderfully skilful; sewed crochet boots and shoes, while others knitted petticoats and jackets, so that we were in no particular fear that when our present clothes failed we should become a tribe of white savages. The children grew like the vegetation, and Gatty stalked over the ground like a young Patagonian. We had no lack of food, though we had neither beef or mutton, but poultry, birds, fish, eggs, and turtle, with innumerable vegetables and fruits, were surely enough for our simple party. In the midst of our many avocations, sighs and tears would arise for those we loved; neither could the the affection we bore each other, and the peaceful, useful, and happy lives we led, obliterate from our minds all we had lost. It was no uncommon thing, especially on Sunday, for us to collect round a favourite tree, and talk of and picture to ourselves what was passing at each home. In remembering the simple stedfast faith of my Father, the hopeful, sweet, loving nature of my Mother, I could not but think that through their virtues we might hope for a restoration to home. As the sins of the parents are visited on the children, so are their virtues means of showering blessings to the third and fourth generation. Was it possible that we were to be finally severed from the world for ever? all the comforts of civilized life fresh in our minds and thoughts. And here I sometimes paused, thinking to myself should we be restored in a few years, in what sort of state and condition should I deliver up each of my precious charges to their parents. I could not disguise from myself that their present mode of life was not suited for the highly-bred and polished youth of the nineteenth century. Madame, I must say, whatever employment they were about, from cutting down a tree to washing and peeling potatoes, never failed to inculcate a ladylike way of doing either employment, and spared no pains to make them as accomplished and graceful as our limited means afforded her.

Sybil was naturally so feminine and elegant that no rough work could spoil her. Serena had a bounding springing freedom of action that befitted a graceful young savage, and was too healthful and pretty to make any act one not suiting to her; while that dear young leviathan, Gatty, could have been graceful nowhere, though beaming with health and strength; how she did grow, and how she found out she was stronger than the little Mother, and how she teased her in consequence, enticing her upon little shelves of rock, under pretence of having discovered a new plant, and then keeping her there, though I might be calling for my lost companion until I was hoarse. Mischievous Gatty, and yet good and loving as she was mischievous. Serena managed her admirably, and could make her do whatever she liked; and it was pretty to see the sylph-like girl holding the great strong powerful Gatty in awe, lecturing her in a gentle, grave, simple way, with a sweet low voice, that murmured like a stream. Sybil might talk of duty, and "you ought" and "you ought not," until her fair face was flushed with talking, but she either found herself showered over with insects, or laid gently on the greensward, or swung up into a branch of a tree, from which she feared to jump down. No mercy had Gatty upon the gentle soft Sybil. The only one among the children who did not seem happy was Oscar. He had no boy of his own age to associate with in boyish pastimes; he was brought prematurely forward, from being the eldest male of our company; he had been passionately attached to his home, and he could bear no allusion to it, or the probability of not seeing it again, without being seriously unhappy for the day. Fond as they were of each other, his brother was too young to enter into the feelings that were unnaturally old, because forced on him.

If Schillie and Gatty devoted themselves to him for a day, he seemed more happy, but he loved to mope about by himself with his gun; and while he grew tall and strong, his face was pale, and his brow thoughtful beyond his years. Many were my anxious thoughts about him, and I lamented a thousand times having suffered Smart to leave, for he would at all events have been some sort of companion to him. Of all our party, he certainly was the only one who invariably remained grave and quiet, whatever might be the pleasantries in which we indulged.

Madame talked for an hour upon the dreadful fact of having no new music for the girls, and used the same phrases and words concerning there being no shop to buy a new cap as she did to the anxieties we had endured and the fears that others must be enduring for us.

Her horror at having no chemist near to make up her tonic mixture equalled the horror she felt at what had become of our companions, or seeing the girls do anything inconsistent to her notions as befitting young ladies caused her as dreadful a shock as the thunder. She was afflicted with fits of dying perpetually, which we remedied the best way we could, generally finding out that a long confidential talk about her sorrows, making her will, and confiding her last wishes to us, restored her as soon as any other recipe. But she was so good, and so fond of the children, that Madame had but to speak to have us all her messengers; even Schillie succumbed to her when the dying fit came on, matter of fact as she was, and scolding me as she did for giving in to it. I had exhausted all my efforts at consolation in one fit, and sent in Schillie to take my place.

"Well, Madame," began Schillie, in a great, stout, hearty, anti-invalidish voice, "better, of course, you are, I see."

Madame (in a faint whisper).—"Ah, my dear Madam, my dear kind friend, I may say now I am going to leave you."

The great Voice.—"I am proud to be your friend always, Madame, but it's all nonsense talking of leaving us. Why you look as well and rosy——"

Madame (a little hysterical).—"Fever, dear Mrs. E., all fever; my poor frame cannot support this long."

The Voice.—"Fever, is it? Let me count your pulse. Very good pulse, rather weak I should say. Take a glass of port wine and you will be all right."

Madame.—"Dear friend, your robust frame knows not what it is to suffer. Ah, the agonies I endure, the insupportable suffering!"

Schillie (a little softer).—"Rheumatism, I dare say; I have it sometimes in my knees, and it is very aggravating."

Madame.—"Alas, alas, would that it were; but I must not lose my precious moments, I must try to speak while I am able."

Schillie.—"Don't hurry, don't hurry, dear Madame. I have nothing to do at present, I can wait as long as you like."

Madame.—"Dear Mrs. E., thanks, but it is I, it is my time that is so short."

Schillie.—"Oh, come, come, that's all nonsense. I see no symptoms of dying about you. Indeed you look better than I have seen you for ages."

Madame.—"It's all deception. My time has come, dear friend, and to you I wish to confide my last wishes."

Schillie.—"But I never can keep a secret. Don't confide anything to me."

Madame.—"They are not secrets. I only wish to confide my beloved little ones to your care after I am gone."

Schillie.—"But I hate children, Madame. June will take care of them."

Madame.—"Ah, I know she will; but she is so fond, so tender a Mother, she sees no faults in them. There is my darling Sybil, she is certainly, if a human being can be, faultless."

Schillie.—"She is a very good soul in her way, Madame, but shockingly untidy."

Madame.—"But her lovely smile, her sweet engaging manners. My Serena is something like her, but, being so much with Gertrude, she is a little less ladylike in manners than I could wish. Could you, dear Mrs. E., just hint to her when I am gone——"

Schillie.—"Oh, good lack! no, Madame, I can hint nothing. I'll tell her you thought her unladylike if you wish; but I think both she and Gatty are first-rate Girls. They are afraid of nothing, and your pattern, Sybil, jumps at a spider."

Madame.—"Dear angel! I must go on. My lovely Zoe will certainly have a poke if she is not watched."

Schillie.—"I'll poke her up always, Madame, I promise you, for your sake."

Madame.—"Thank you, thank you, and my pretty Winifred. Have you not observed how she turns in her right foot?"

Schillie.—"No indeed, Madame, I never observed either right or left foot, but I'll look out, if I remember, for the future."

Madame.—"Thanks, dear friend, I think that is all about my darlings, save Lilly's eyes."

Schillie.—"They are very good eyes, Madame, and neither poke or turn in, which would be a squint I suppose."

Madame.—"They are lovely eyes, of heaven's own blue, but she ruins them by reading no much."

Schillie.—"Well, I'll stop her reading. Anything more Madame?"

Madame.—"Yes, I should like to be buried under trees near our church."

Schillie.—"Very well, I can safely promise that, as I suppose I shall help to dig your grave myself."

Madame then wound up in such a pathetic manner that Schillie was obliged to have recourse to her pocket handkerchief, and came blubbering out of the room, muttering that though she believed she was only an old humbug she would be very sorry if the old lady really died.

She was only just recovering this fit one very sultry day when we carried her to the edge of the cliff to catch a breath of air if she could. It was so extremely hot we could do nothing, and therefore lay beside her, instead of leaving a little girl in attendance as usual. We fancied something must be about to occur, for every breath seemed as if drawing in hot air. I, with what Schillie called my usual fidgetiness, was imagining horror upon horrors, when, suddenly looking at the sea, we beheld it rise and fall as if one tremendous wave passed over it. Almost immediately the whole island seemed to tremble under our feet, a rumbling and at the same time crashing sound quite surrounded us. "An earthquake," cried some, while all sprang to their feet. A breathless silence ensued, but all nature seemed as if nothing had occurred. "The house," said Schillie. "The boys!" I exclaimed. We flew down headlong towards the rocks from which they usually fished. Not a trace of them or the rocks, the sea was boiling beyond what we had never seen covered before. I sat stupidly down on the sands, as if waiting for the waves to cast my sons up at my feet.

"They may not have been fishing," said Schillie. I did not heed her until the sharp cry of a child in pain struck on my ear. We rushed towards the place, and found Oscar supporting his brother, who was screaming violently. They were alive; all other things seemed to me as nothing. As I took him in my arms, Oscar told me that, finding the fish would not bite, and feeling excessively tired, they had agreed to go to a shady ledge on the rocks, and sleep for an hour. He was awakened by a strange noise, as well as being thrown rather violently from the place where he lay; opening his eyes, he beheld Felix some feet below him, lying apparently dead. He ran and picked him up, and throwing some water on his face from the brook near which they had lain down, in the course of some minutes he opened his eyes and knew his brother, but on moving he shrieked with pain. Oscar wrung his hands, and cried as he said, "Oh, Mother, Mother, what is the matter, will he die? Who has hurt him? What has happened? Oh my brother, my brother, I should die for my Felix." The sight of Oscar's distress caused a cessation in Felix's screams. He put out one little hand, and said, "Don't cry, Otty, I'll bear it, only don't cry so." "Bear what, my darling," said I, "where are you hurt?" "I am hurted all about, Mama; but is it a snake that has eaten me, or who killed me? I'll be a man, dear Otty. I'll not scream any more, if you will only not cry so, because I shall cry, I know I shall, I must cry just a little, but it is not the pain." As he tried thus to comfort his brother, the colour fled from his cheeks, his eyes closed, the rosy lips paled, he fell back in my arms motionless. I thought he was dead, but he was in my arms, the wild waves had him not for their prey; could it be possible that I felt comforted as I clasped him closer? Wine was brought, water poured on his face; and, as we laid him on the sward, his right arm fell in an unnatural position. It was broken. Stripping off his clothes, and carefully examining, we found him bruised in various places, but no other bones injured save the collar bone. Schillie set both arm and collar bone. We bandaged them as well as we could, and then carefully carrying him to the old tent place, we did our best to restore him to consciousness. In this we succeeded; and, though for many days he lay in a dangerous fever, once that was subdued he grew well astonishingly fast. The arm reunited perfectly, but the collar bone retains a lump on it to this day.

The first symptom he gave us of returning health and strength was in a conversation he had with his beloved Jenny, who was so occupied in nursing him her attentions to us were of the most scanty kind. Imagine a little figure, clothed in a little white gown, his arm and shoulder bandaged up, lying on a lot of cushions. The smallest little white face peeped out from a mass of hair, and a little brown monkey, with a face about the same size, watches the different clouds of restlessness or pleasure that passed over the little white face with a curious mixture of wonder and curiosity. Jenny appears with a dish and exposes it to view. The little invalid, with a lordly air, surveys his dinner.

Felix.—"A nasty chicken again, Jenny."

Jenny.—"Oh, Sir, I have roasted it to a turn, and here is egg sauce."

Felix.—"Then give me the egg sauce, and you may have the chicken. I wish chickens were never invented."

Jenny.—"Would you like a duck, Sir?"

Felix.—"No, duck is nastier. I want a mutton chop, Jenny."

Jenny.—"But I have not got one, Sir."

Felix.—"Then a beefsteak."

Jenny.—"Indeed, I wish I could get one for you, Sir."

Felix.—"Well, I don't mind, just for once, eating some boiled leg of mutton."

Jenny.—"Oh, my darling, then you must want mutton very bad, and you know there is not such a thing on the island."

Felix.—"Then it's a bad place, and I wish we were away, having nothing but chickens and chickens, ducks and ducks, until we shall all crow and quack."

Jenny.—"Oh, don't, Sir, don't go for to move, and get in such a passion, you'll displace the bones, and make your Mama so unhappy."

Felix.—"I am sure nobody is so unhappy as me; and as for your chicken, there——"

And with a kick of the little impudent foot away went the chicken out of its dish into Jenny's face, who forgave her darling on the spot; nay, even came to us for congratulations on his recovery. "For," says she, "he is as impudent as ever he was when well, and is that not a good sign, Ma'am."

Schillie.—"Wash the remains of the chicken off your face, Jenny, and then I'll tell you my opinion."



CHAPTER XXVI.

The fact that our beloved island was subject to earthquakes disturbed us considerably. Storms we began to think quite common, hurricanes nothing, rain but another mode for enjoyment; but to be swallowed up by the earth, by the very land that had proved a haven to us when storm-beset and wave-tossed, seemed an infliction not to be got over.

For some time we imagined every noise a rumbling earthquake, the swift running feet of the children as if the house was coming down, the noisy thumping of the washing stones as indicative of the rocks falling over us. This induced us to think, much to Schillie's horror, of seeking a new abode during the very hot weather on a smooth plain where no rocks could cover us, nor trees fall on us, though we could not prevent the earth opening her mouth and swallowing us up.

In one of our exploring parties for this purpose we came upon the site and signs of an old habitation, evidently having been a substantial and large dwelling, with remains of garden and palisade. We know not how it escaped the observation of our kind captain, unless from the fact that it lay on the open plain, and just before it was a plantation of trees, so that, unless you walked across the plain, and went behind the trees, you would see nothing of it; and they being able to see all across, doubtless thought it labour lost to investigate what seemed open before them.

Here we fancied had been the lair of the great serpent, from the close smell and other circumstances about the place; but it was with feelings rather akin to awe that we investigated a place built by other hands than our own. Feeling so assured, as we did, that no mortal was on the island, or apparently had been, but ourselves, we had begun to think really that it was our own, risen out of the sea for us alone, so that Schillie was for a time the only one who took a matter-of-fact view of this appearance to us "Robinson Crusoes" of "Friday's foot." She declared it had been deserted twenty years and more, and that the roof was a very bad one at the very beginning of it, and not on such a good plan as ours; that certainly she descried a new lichen on the walls, which she went to fetch, and proved herself correct; finally, that there might be some lock-up place within, giving us a clue to the former inhabitants. We accordingly searched, and found various articles of clothing and furniture, evidently of foreign manufacture. Everything was covered some inches thick with a fine sand, which caused insufferable choking and sneezing to those who were heedless. It seemed very apparent that the house had been quitted suddenly, or that something had caused great disorder and confusion. After wasting a great deal of time, talking, thinking, and conjecturing, we at last came to the conclusion that, with some trouble, we might make it a very tidy house, and that we would proceed systematically to clean it, and make it fit for the use of such august people as we were; and, being governed by the soul of honour, every article looking like private property was carefully put away, in case the real owners should arrive, though there was many a thing that would have been rather useful to us. Some books in the Spanish language we kept, as the girls and I thought to amuse ourselves during the next rainy season in teaching ourselves Spanish. "Mighty silly," says Schillie, "taking such unnecessary trouble, as who knows but that there may be nobody to talk to ere long even in English." This old house was very low, and full of rents and holes; also, we discovered that, though on a plain, it was so contrived nobody could perceive it was a habitation unless close to it. From two sides it was quite hidden by trees, though not close to them, from the third side it looked like part of the plantation, and from the fourth side it seemed to be part and parcel of a mound and clump of rocks close by. It had five rooms in it, two not much bigger than closets. Altogether we agreed our new abode had not the open, frank, handsome air of our own home, with its wide-spread doorless entrance, but looked rather like the covered den of people wishing to keep themselves concealed and out of sight. However, we used it in all openness and fairness, and whatever might have been the character of its last inhabitants, we kept open house, never closing the great iron-plated door or the barred shutters; also, we misdoubted they could have been good people, as there was nothing feminine to be found about the place. Nevertheless, we lived in great comfort, and every evening somebody told a new romance as to what had been the fate of the lost and gone, until we wove a history about them, equal to any fairy story ever told, winding up with one from Felix, who, after giving various touching descriptions as to their numerous qualities and perfections, declared that they died one by one. "How?" said the little girls, looking aghast at such an abrupt conclusion. "They disappeared," said Felix, "one every night." "But that's no story, how did they disappear?" "Oh, you must guess, my story is a riddle." So they guessed and guessed, but, becoming no wiser, they clamourously called on him to tell. "But if you don't guess," said Felix, "how can I tell, for not one of them was left alive." "You are a stupid boy," said Lilly, "and tell a very bad story." "Yours was a much badderer, and you are a stupid girl not to guess that the big snake eat them all up." "Well done, well done," said everybody, "a very good idea. I dare say it did happen." So then we fell upon conjecturing what we should have done to save ourselves under similar circumstances, which gave rise to so many bloody-minded schemes and horrible intentions of torture, that no respectable snake would have ventured near us.



CHAPTER XXVII.

What! has a year gone? Are we celebrating the day of our arrival at YR YNYS UNYG? More, much more, days flee away, weeks speed on, months glide by us. Has hope gone? Are the cheerful strong hearts weary and low? The elastic young spirits, the energetic wills, the high courage and strong energies, could not always last on the full stretch. But why detail the fits of despondency, the listless hopeless state into which we sometimes fell? Suffice it that nature sometimes asserted her rights, while religion kept us from open despair. Many events occurred, wearisome to the reader, though interesting to ourselves. Sometimes we divided, and half lived in one house and half in the other. We then paid each other visits of ceremony, expending much labour, even if no cost, on the feasts we prepared for our company. Also we established a post, in which we wrote imaginary news from England. The girls became very expert in drawing. We spoke all kinds of languages. We invented stories and told them, many of the children's I have preserved, being very clever and amusing. Also we had another earthquake, which led to a great discovery. No less than that the cliffs behind our house, and reaching down to the beach, were one continuous range of caverns, all apparently formed of old coral. Serena was the fortunate discoverer, for, excited by curiosity one day, she insinuated her slender figure in a fissure which had been rent in the rock by the last earthquake. Her exclamations of delight and pleasure caused all those who could follow her to do so; but, alas for the stout Schillie, and the gigantic Gatty, they were compelled to hear the shouts of joy and yet could bear no part; a discovery was made and no Schillie to give her opinion thereon; a new adventure and no Gatty to lend a helping hand. They chafed like lions in a cage, until Madame happily came to their rescue, by suggesting an enlargement of the fissure. But this was not the work of a moment, more especially as every two minutes they were interrupted by the little ones rushing out with fresh wonders to detail, while the big ones shouted more and more.

Gatty squeezed herself through with the loss of half her garments, fully prepared to prove the new discovery nothing, while Schillie, Madame, and I worked for another half hour, and went through like ladies to see a sight which enchanted us. A most magnificent cavern, cool and dark, though some light penetrated in from above somewhere, the ground was covered with fine dry sand, the numerous grotesque shapes and oddities all around the cavern seemed almost made on purpose for little private habitations and snug corners. It was so large in size that it had nothing of the musty feeling of the little caverns below, but was airy, and even bright with sunshine during part of the day. Every body seemed to find a nook or place in it so suited to their minds, that we called it the "Cavern of Content." We nearly deserted our houses during the hot weather, and lived almost entirely in the cavern, everybody choosing their own private apartment, and fitting up according to their own fashion. Schillie grumbled a good deal at the perversity of the cavern in not having suffered itself to be discovered before, and saved her the trouble of building a house. "I declare," said she, "my hands have never been fit to look at since." These hands were her weak point, as I said before, but, as they were just as white and pretty as ever, I would not nibble at her fish for a compliment, and she held them up without a remark from any of us until Gatty pinched them.

The only thing I did not like about the cavern was that it had innumerable passages and windings about, and odd places, with dark holes, and ghostly-looking corners. I was not satisfied until I had explored them all, blocking up narrow little slits, and doing all I could to rout out anything that might be harbouring there. There was one passage very long and steep, the entrance to it out of the cavern was so narrow we did not notice it at first; but, when once through, we had every here and there light, and it led in one or two instances to other caverns, though none so large as ours, but it always led downwards. At last we came to a place utterly dark, and, as we stopped for a moment, we heard the rushing of water. Of course I thought we should all be drowned, and commanded every one to return, but, somehow, we could not rest without finding out what dangers we might be exposing ourselves to. So, after a couple of day's doubt, we took candles and torches, and the whole family set out, not being willing to leave one survivor to tell the tale of what might befall us. At the dark place we lighted our torches and proceeded towards a glimmering light. The rushing of water sounded nearer and nearer, our steps became slower and more slow, the light brighter and better, at last what should we see but the sea shining through a fall of waters that hung like a gauze curtain between us and the open air. We were able to creep out with but a slight sprinkling, and then found ourselves not far from the great chestnut tree, at the place before mentioned, where the rocks had a precipitate fall of twenty feet, over which the stream fell; in fact, the entrance into the cavern was immediately under the fall, and, with very little trouble, we could make egress and ingress without getting wet.

It is impossible to do justice to the beauty of the scene looking at it through the sparkling veil of waters, or to describe our pleasure at this singular discovery. Not only did the outside of the island belong to us, but now we had the secrets of the interior exposed to us, and the right of making what we liked of them.

Mother.—"Now, Schillie, this is one of the most charming discoveries in the world, for if pirates and marauders come here, we shall be able to hide for weeks without their discovering us."

Schillie.—"I had hoped your head was cleared of those piratical notions. For my part, I wish someone would come. The King of the Pirates would be welcome so that we could have a little variety."

Mother.—"I think you are ungrateful. We have been eighteen months here now, and can you say that we have had one privation or serious trouble?"

Schillie.—"June, you have your children near you, you see nothing else and care for nothing else. I own the sight of my Willie, and the long sunny curls of my Puss, would, were it but for one moment, ease my heart, and make me bear hunger, thirst, privations of every kind, without a murmur. We have everything here we can possibly want, and that without having to slave for it. We have food growing up to our mouths, the trees shed clothes for us, the sea, the sky, the air, the island, more lovely than angels' dreams; the young ones grow and thrive; Madame has become a new creature; you are regaining your youth and spirits. So what have I to do, but eat, drink, and sleep, and think of what I have left behind, and what I may never see again. I tell you, June, I am moped to death. I welcome the thunder storms as a variety, I look upon the earthquakes as a desirable change in something, I watch the hurricanes with a sort of insane desire that they would blow us all away!"

Mother.—"My darling! I am vexed for you. I trust that God will look upon your present state with compassion and mercy, restoring you once more to your children. But remember yours are with the best and kindest friends, in the midst of civilisation and religious advantages. Look at mine. Though I have them with me, and they are healthy and strong, yet is this the sort of education I intended for them? Is this the life I had hoped to see them lead? Should they not soon be restored to their homes and country will they not be rendered unfit for mixing with civilised society? or too old to change; or, even if we remain here, will not that be worse for them?"

Schillie.—"Well, I grant our troubles are equal, but I wish, I wish, oh how I wish to see my children once more. But here are the girls, and they must not see me thus. Upon my word Gatty is too stupid. She has grown almost as good as Sybil and Serena. I don't think she has been in a bit of mischief these three months."

Mother.—"Don't make yourself unhappy about that, lest you find reason to eat your words, and have to sit in repentance once for some act against you. Now girls, don't you think this one of your best discoveries?"

"Yes," said Sybil, "because during the rainy season we can come here every day and have a shower bath."

"And," said Serena, "we can get fresh water every day without being half-drowned."

"And," said Gatty, "we can sit here and look out for ships all day long."

Mother.—"What, Gatty, are you tired of being here?"

Gatty.—"Tired, tired does not express what I think about this place. There is nothing to do. Nothing frightens Sybil now, and Serena is so busy learning Spanish, she won't listen to a word I say in English. Oscar makes me talk of home and Wales until I am ready to cry my eyes out at my own descriptions. And the three little girls are all so wise and womanly that they seem to reprove me if I do anything the least like play or fun. I have not had a bit of fun since Felix tried to teach his monkey to fish, that he might lazily read himself. I am quite done up with dullness" (heaving a sort of groan).

Mother.—"Indeed, I think you are badly used, especially since Madame has found out you really can be a good girl if you like."

Gatty.—"I could be as mischievous as ever, only nobody cares for it or scolds me."

Schillie.—"Mischievous! I should think so, you sphinx of plagues, I declare I am dripping, and you know I have a horror of being over damp."

Gatty.—"It is quite clean water, little Mother, and it is but a little stream, and has not been running long to you."

Schillie.—"But you know if it had not been for your great clumsy fingers making a channel, that stream would never have come to where I am sitting; and you did it on purpose you know, so that it should just dribble to my seat and not June's."

Gatty.—"Yes, I know I did, little Mother, because you know I would never have done so to her."

Schillie.—"Did any one ever hear such impudence. Now, I insist on it that you go back, and bring me some dry things. But it's no use, I must go myself. I am wet through and through. Well, you shall never catch me complaining again of Miss Gatty being stupidly good; and she knows so well I hate anything like damp."

Gatty (with her demure face).—"Yes, little Mother, I know that so well, that I sent sufficient water to wet you thoroughly instead of damping you."

Schillie went off muttering horrible imprecations.



CHAPTER XXVIII.

We employed the next rainy season in making the passage through the cavern wider and better, so that we could run up and down without torches or fears. The rainy season had commenced with what Felix called a very savage storm, and it seemed likely to end with one equally fierce. The thunder pealed so loud that many large pieces of rock were shaken down in the cavern by the concussion, and it became dangerous to live in it. Schillie turned us all out, therefore, one day, and taking Oscar and Gatty, she placed them in different safe corners with guns, and they all three fired their guns in the cavern for half an hour, thereby bringing down any loose rocks or dangerous parts of the cavern. When we were re-admitted, we were nearly all choked with the smell of the gunpowder, which did not go off for a good while. The cavern was so dry, healthy, and large, and being able to run down to the brook was so delicious, that we scarcely thought of the danger we incurred in living in it. But this storm was tremendous. We ran to the narrow part, close by the waterfall, to flee out at a minute's warning. As we sat huddled together, all silent and awe-struck, what was that we saw in the flash of lightning? Some uttered a hurried exclamation, all started, but none said a word. The thunder crashed louder; we longed for the lightning. It came, one long, bright flash, and every mouth uttered "a ship! a ship!"

How unaccountable were our feelings. Fear for the ship predominated. Then the wild conjectures, the hopes, the fears. Suppose it was the beloved La Luna, or some stranger. We heeded not the storm for ourselves now. We longed for the flashes of lightning to reveal to us the strange, the welcome, the bewildering sight. She was apparently riding at anchor, endeavouring to weather the storm under the shelter of the great rock, for each flash showed her in the same place, but each flash also took away from the most sanguine the hope that it was La Luna; yet still we clung to the idea that it might be the dear captain come in another vessel. To leave the spot was impossible; the maids brought cloaks and wrappers for the children, who slept at our feet, but the older watchers remained with their eyes fixed on the one spot, waiting for the coming dawn. The wind lulled, the rain ceased, the thunder was silent, and the impenetrable darkness remained unrelieved by the lightning. Thus we sat through that dark night, waiting for the coming hour so important to our fate.

Over the wide-spread sea streamed the first light of morning. As it spread from one end of heaven to the other our hearts beat, our eyes ached to penetrate still quicker the fast-receding gloom. It was then that Madame spoke, beseeching me earnestly to suffer no signs of our being on the island to show themselves until we had carefully scanned and examined the strangers. To this I silently agreed. Schillie and Gatty, with the three girls, were so absorbed in their watch that Madame went to each and gave them the caution she had given me. In a few minutes the world was in a blaze of light, and conspicuous on the troubled but brilliant sea was the long, low, black hull of a schooner-rigged vessel. There seemed no signs of life on board, which sent a chill to our hearts. If our dear captain had been there, would he not have been watching for the daylight as we had been? Would he not have been landing at this moment, and we rushing down to meet him? Many sobbed aloud, half overcome at the sight of human beings again, half overwhelmed at the fatal fear that they came not for us. Madame alone seemed to have her senses about her. Silently beckoning the maids to follow, she left us, but what to do we neither asked or cared to know. The little ones still slumbered, we still watched, no life, no signs of humanity to be seen on board the object of our fond wishes, our deep anxiety. An hour passed, and, as the little sleepers each awoke, Madame had them carried off. Presently the maids brought us each some coffee, but we hardly cared to drink it.

At last a man is seen. We grasped each other's hands and withdrew, clinging closer together, though the veil of waters effectually screened us, well as we could see through it. Another half hour, and the vessel was alive with human beings. Finally, about a dozen, all armed, got into a boat and came to land. They, one and all, anxiously gazed on the cliffs and rocks, while some used their telescopes. When landed, they examined with wonder and curiosity the remains of our tent; we had left but few signs there, as nothing could remain out in the wet weather without being damaged. But still there was enough to show them that human beings had been there, and that within a month or so. They sat down, and talked vehemently, always looking with great earnestness on the island. We supposed them to be alarmed, for they did not venture one hundred yards from their boat. How little did they think what a helpless party was watching them, and that, too, with greater fear than interest. Not that I was not already feeling the wisdom of Madame's advice, for, as far as we could judge, they seemed a black strange wild-looking set of men. But our suspense was soon ended. We heard one shouting, the others all ran, and he pointed to something on the cliffs we could not see. I trembled as I looked round for the children, but Gatty, whose curiosity and excitement took her beyond the bounds of prudence, exclaimed, it is the snake's skin, they are wondering at it. She was quite right. Two got into the boat and rowed back to the ship, the rest ran without apparent fear to the rock on which our captain had nailed the great skin, and which we had never removed, and which neither time or storms had apparently injured. The boat brought back another load, who also ran to the place, and all seemed in a great state of excitement.

"June," said Schillie to me, "they are not alarmed about us, you see. They must have known of this island, and the great snake, and been afraid of it; now they see its skin you'll see they'll be all over the island. I misdoubt me, that big fellow is the King of the Pirates, whom fate has wafted hither in compliance with my mad wishes; and that house we found on the plain is his castle, and now he'll go and take possession, and find out that somebody has been beforehand. I don't like their looks, June, we must keep close at present. But what infatuated geese we are to sit here, when we must run to Tir-y-hir, and do away with as much of our whereabouts as we can."

Leaving the children to watch, with Sybil in charge of them, we ran for our lives. Here we found the wise and thoughtful Madame beforehand with us, she and the maids had been moving everything, and it required but willing hands and quick work to pile up stones, and remove all vestiges of the cavern. Of course our house would speak for itself. Luckily we had been living in the cavern for a month, so that no very recent traces of us could be discovered. Gatty grumbled a little, indeed I don't think she would have worked had she not anticipated some amusement in watching the new arrivals, whilst they must be utterly ignorant of our existence. Schillie worked with a will; from the first I think she had a foreboding that all was not right about these people. We now went back, and found the watchers full of news, and also full of squabbles amongst themselves. More people had come from the ship; fires had been lighted. Every one had gone to look at the big snake's skin. Working was going on; symptoms of a tent had been commenced. The squabbles amongst the little ones arose because of their different opinions of the new comers. Oscar voted them pirates, and declared he would shoot the first one that came near us. The little girls declared they must be friends, and would be sure to take them home if they gave them money. Felix was most anxious to be amongst them and get on board, and go home, and every other variety of scheme, but the promise from Oscar that he should have the first chance of shooting the first pirate completely turned him, and he became perfectly convinced that they were horrible robbers, perhaps slave-stealers, and did he not shoot them he and his Mother would be stolen and sold for slaves to different masters. A climax of fate that seemed to him would settle the period of his life.

We took little food that day, and the strangers never imagined that throughout the whole time at least four pairs of eyes were constantly watching them; nay, even when night arrived two of us kept watch, though we had most of us fits of impatience, not to say remorse, at thus welcoming strangers so long desired. In fact, if it had not been for Schillie and Madame we should certainly have rushed upon our fate in our anxiety to find out whether they were friends or foes. Gatty chafed like a young lion, every handkerchief that came near her was soon in tatters. Sybil glowed with animation as she said, "They never could harm us, they will be only too glad to help us, they will pity us so much for our sad fate; we have only to tell them our story and they would take us all away; oh I am sure, quite sure they would. It seems so unkind and ungracious to be thus suspicious of the first human beings we have seen so long."

Schillie.—"Pooh, pooh, child, it is better to leave them in ignorance of our unkindness, for fear you should find out when too late that they will be equally unkind in chopping you up into beefsteaks, at least you had better make up your mind which of the two acts will be the most unkind."

Sybil.—"But, surely they are not cannibals; I don't think there is a sailor in the world who could be a cannibal, they are all such good fellows."

Schillie.—"Humph! Think as you like my dear. I honour your innocence and applaud your approbation of sailors. But you are such a noodle, and, being the stoutest of the party, ought to have more compassion on yourself."

Serena.—"But I agree with Sybil in thinking it very ungracious, not giving them the option of being kind to us, if they like it. They can but leave us behind if they don't like us."

Schillie.—"If they would promise to leave us behind in case they don't like us, I am ready to go and meet them now."

Gatty.—"Then do come, for I do think this most horrid work, peeping and watching, and imagining every evil thing against them. Besides, supposing they do turn out uncivil, what is to prevent us when they are all asleep rising and taking possession of their vessel, and sailing off with it, leaving them a note to say we will pay them for it as soon as ever we arrive in England."

Schillie.—"And I trust you are prepared to act captain to the vessel, as well as mate and crew. I promise you that I am not going to sea without some experienced hands to guide the ship."

Sybil.—"Perhaps we can bribe some of them to come with us. For if they are wicked people there are sure to be some unfortunate good ones among them, who will be glad to get away."

Mother.—"Well! between us we shall weave a romantic story about them. In the meantime don't let us be impatient."

Serena.—"But, dear sister, won't they think it unkind of us hiding ourselves from them in this suspicious way, supposing they turn out to be good friendly people."

Madame.—"My sweet child, let them think us anything rather than we should get into their power. Once in their hands we should never get out again so helpless as we are. Indeed they look so ferocious that two of them would be quite enough to kill us all."

Oscar.—"I should like to see two dare to do it."

Felix.—"And so would I, we would soon settle their business, would we not Otty? You should take the left fellow, and I would knock down the right one."

Gatty.—"Yes! indeed; two! Why I could settle two myself! But this is such sorry work; peeping like brats. We might be even now making preparations to go away, they having promised to take us by this time. I can't stand waiting another day, I know I cannot."

Serena.—"Then you must sit, and be patient, meanwhile let me tell you——"

Schillie.—"I think you are very childish. Think if these people turn out to be enemies what an advantage we have in being able to see and watch all they do, and yet they not being able to find out anything about us."

Sybil.—"But I don't like to think they are enemies or that they would be so to us."

Gatty.—"Of course not, Syb. For once I agree with you, and I think it a great shame to behave like this to them; so like Madame fearing an elephant behind a straw."

This last sentence was muttered between her teeth, but Schillie caught it, and turning round said, "I'll tell you what Miss Gatty, if you say another word on the subject, or favour us with any more of your remarkably silly ideas, I'll have you locked up."

"Where, little Mother?" said Gatty, winding her great arms round Schillie, who struggled in vain to release herself from the potent grasp. "June, June, con—— no, I don't mean that, hang—— no nor that, you horrid—— Well! I am in a vice, June, I say June, make her release me. What arms the wretch has, will you let me out you good-for-nothing, I'll give it you well, Miss; come release me, June, I'll never speak to you again, if you don't let me free instead of laughing in that absurd manner."

Truly it was very ridiculous; Gatty so cool and quiet, but holding her fast; Schillie in a red hot rage, and utterly unable to release herself. But we were getting too noisy, so peace was proclaimed, and harmony restored.

The next morning we found it a true prophecy that the strangers would be all over the island. First of all they examined all our remains and marks of habitation on the cliffs, especially the church, where our foot-marks would be more recent than anywhere else. But we trusted to the great rains that had fallen to obliterate them as much as possible. In examining the cliffs they came so near us that we could distinguish their voices, and even found that they spoke a sort of Spanish. The nearer they came the less prepossessing they appeared, and even Gatty retreated with a shudder as two wild fierce-looking hairy faces showed themselves just above a ledge of rocks within fifty yards of our hiding place.

Some of us remained under the waterfall, the noise of which prevented us hearing anything distinctly, while the remainder ran up and watched at the other entrance. There, through chinks and crevices we could watch them, as they gradually came in different parties towards the little valley in which our house was built. It was quite inevitable their discovering it, so we made up our minds to that matter; and it was not long ere the shouts of those who did so drew all the others to the place.

How rejoiced we were on a nearer view of them that Madame had been so provident in advising us to keep close until we could learn something of them. Even Sybil was obliged to allow that she did not recognise a single good face amongst them. So wild and fierce a set I never saw, and their looks made me shudder. From our small knowledge of Spanish we could make out that they were greatly surprised, and evidently guessed some one was on the island. Also they said a great deal about the snake, and their rejoicings it was dead, making evident allusions to the island as if they knew it quite well. After satisfying their curiosity some sat down to smoke, as if intending to wait patiently for the arrival of the inhabitants, others pursued their researches and we had no doubt went to the other house, while all examined their arms and primed their guns, as if preparing for an engagement with the warlike people who had slaughtered so great a monster as the snake.

We made all these remarks amongst ourselves, and were greatly amused at our conjectures and interpretations of all they said.

But we could not thus calmly give up all our fond hopes and wishes. We had still some struggles, frightened as we were at the sight of our new companions. It was necessary, however, that we should come to some regular arrangement of our time and work, as we were in danger of starving to death in our eagerness to watch these people. Unluckily a great part of our store of food was in the house they were now so busily smoking in. We had enough with us for a few days, but we generally kept our stores there, as they seemed to do better there than in the cavern. Also it was useless the whole set of us watching; accordingly we took it turn about, two at each entrance for two hours at each time, a little one and a big one always together. The remainder went about their usual occupations, all except lessons, about which Madame seemed to have tasted the waters of Lethe. We suffered rather in point of meals, as we dared not light a fire for fear of the smoke discovering us. Besides our kitchen apparatus was all in the house, so that altogether, what with fatigue, worry, and discomfort, we were getting unanimous in abusing our new neighbours. We came to one agreement, namely, that the next day being Sunday we should observe how they spent it. If, in anything like a christian manner we would open negotiations with them by some means yet to be discussed, but, if in a heathen manner, then we should consider them as savages, cannibals, and no one knows what; and, hiding close, we should quietly endure our privations as best we could, until the ill-omened, disappointing black vessel should leave us once more to our fate.

In the security of darkness and secrecy we slept that night, Madame and Jenny moving their mattresses to the waterfall side, Schillie and I to the side where Tir-y-hir was, that, at all events we might have the first intimation of any discovery they might make. Before we went to sleep, however, we assured ourselves that they had been to the other house, and, if anything could have completed our disgust it was the fact that they returned dragging with them all our summer clothes, with which they covered themselves. The pretty white hats belonging to the girls, which they had learned to plait themselves, were thrust on the great, dirty, greasy heads of these horrid men. All the pretty silk Sunday frocks, the shawls, the scarfs, the caps, the bonnets, the carefully hoarded remains of our civilized attire, alas! alas! did they not also tell these wretches what a helpless party were on the island? Everything was recklessly thrown about, torn, and trodden under foot. Hargrave flew from the sight, and hid her tears and stifled her sobs in the darkest corner of the cavern. From that hour they were doomed in her estimation as the acme of wickedness and vice.

Many times during the night were we awakened by their noise and drunken revelry, and alas for the hopes we had formed of the Sabbath-day none ever were less fulfilled.

The scenes of riot, quarrelling, drinking, and imprecation were so dreadful we could not keep watch any more, but hurried as far we were able from the sight and sounds of life so abhorrent to our nature, so horrid to witness. With pale faces and tearful eyes, and ears yet filled with oaths and bitter words, we proceeded to gain courage and implore help from the throne of grace, feeling how we stood in need of such aid. For not even when about to be a prey to the stormy elements, or the desolate feeling when left alone in a solitary island, or the sudden death which appeared inevitable in the jaws of the horrid snake, not even in all these did we feel our helplessness as we did now. And it was our own species we feared, for whose coming we had so often prayed. It was man, once created in the image of God, that sent this pang of horror through us.

But, enough of this; suffice it to say we were a set of miserable, trembling, quaking women, but God in his mercy calmed and comforted us, so that after the morning prayers we proceeded to make our hiding place still more secure.

As I said before, the waterfall was a most effectual screen, especially now that there was so much water in the brook. The more water that fell of course the more liable we were to get wet as we passed in and out, but, owing to the height from which it fell, the water cleared the rock by some feet, and thus gave us a passage underneath. The tall ones had always to stoop, but the little ones ran out and in like rabbits in a burrow. At the other entrance it was almost as well concealed. Now we got in and out, for the rock projected some ten feet out, and then just round the corner appeared a sort of recess. This seemed exactly smooth with the rock, but, by edging round and squeezing a little, you came to a sort of slit or cleft in the rock and that led to the cavern. But even when there we had innumerable holes and hiding places, and it would have been a good week's work to ferret us all out from thence. In case, however, of discovery, we organised a plan and arranged our places of retreat, and we practised ourselves in quick hiding, and, to get our lesson perfect, in every now and then calling out "The pirates are coming." Whereupon, as a matter of course, every one ran for their lives to their appointed place. Each place had a communication with another, so that we could telegraph all round. The place from whence we made our observations was on a ledge up in the cavern, from whence some of the light came in; it might be about twenty feet from the ground, and we looked down on them. Dreadful wretches.



CHAPTER XXIX.

We were up, had had our shower bath after careful examination, had breakfasted, and yet there lay our enemies in stupid and heavy sleep still.

"Now then," said Gatty, "now is our time."

"Yes," said Otty, "I'll engage to kill them all."

"With my help," said Master Felix consequentially.

"No, no, children, don't be so absurd," said I, "drunken people are not so helpless as you imagine, and, besides, they may not be all so. Some may be watching elsewhere, some others may still be in the ship; they will soon be tired of looking for us, and leave us in peaceable possession of our dear little island."

Schillie.—"I am not quite sure if it would not be a good plan to pick them off one by one, when we can find them at an advantage."

Mother.—"For heaven's sake don't be mad. The report of a gun would bring them all on us, and the smoke betray us."

Sybil.—"Besides, little Mother, they may after all be good people, and we have no right to kill them until they have tried to hurt us."

Hargrave.—"Oh Miss Sybil, whatever can you go for to say they 'ave not 'armed hus. I never, no never saw such wickedness! My mistress's best lace dress! I shall never forget it to my dying day, no nor never forgive it. The 'eathens, the monsters, I am willing to 'old any hinstrument for my young master while he shoots the dreadful scrummagers."

Gatty.—"You don't say so! Hargrave, then take hold of this."

Hargrave shuddered as she grasped the gun, but she resolutely held it at arms length. Gatty having put her to the proof, applauded her, and we went on with our conversation.

Mother.—"I can never feel sufficiently grateful to you, Madame, for your forethoughts and wisdom. We are now at all events our own mistresses and masters, but no one knows what would have become of us, had we gone open-armed to meet these people."

Madame.—"They look capable of any wickedness, Madam, and I really begin to think from all I can make out that they are pirates, and then they would have had no scruples in carrying us all off, and selling us for slaves."

Schillie.—"Or worse, they might have turned us into wives, a thing I could by no means consent to, even to be Queen of the Pirates."

Serena (our best Spanish Scholar).—"I heard them talking a great deal about the snake, and it seemed they were afraid to land at first for fear of it, but wanted water very much. And it was only on discovering its skin that they ceased to feel any alarm, and have wandered all about since."

Gatty.—"What owls we were to leave the skin there. However I think it great fun to dodge them in this way."

Madame.—"Fun did you say, my dear child? Poor deceived child."

Gatty.—"Not deceived at all, Madame, and, besides, we all think it fun."

Sybil.—"Yes, Madame, I think it very amusing to feel so safe and secure, and yet to be able to watch them so well."

Serena.—"And you know, Madame, it gives us such advantage; we know all about them, and they know nothing about us."

Schillie.—"Also, Madame, we have now something to do, and June cannot thrust any more of her inventions upon us for want of some other amusement."

Zoe.—"And you know, Madame, we cannot have any lessons while we are so busy watching."

Winny.—"Yes, Madame, and it is so nice to feel so useful, and have you all running up to ask us, 'Well! what do we see now? What's going on at present?'"

Lilly.—"And to see them all running about here and there looking for us, and all too in the wrong places."

Oscar.—"And what fun it will be to shoot them."

Felix.—"Yes! right and left shots."

Jenny.—"Oh, Master Felix, how pleased I should be to see you do that."

Hargrave.—"Nobody more so than hi, I make bold to say."

Madame turned from one to another in sad dismay, and then looked at me.

"Well! Madame, it is better they should all think thus than be as wretched as we were yesterday," returned I. "So let us make the best of it, hope the best, and ardently pray for it."

"I should like just to kill a few before they leave," said Gatty.

Mother.—"For what possible reason, my dear child?"

Gatty.—"Because, because, it will be then a real good downright adventure, and we shall be able——"

Here we were interrupted by a great noise. Every heart jumped into every mouth, at least mine did, so I suppose every other person's did. We flew to our hiding places. By and by there was a great smell of smoke. I telegraphed Schillie, and we crept from our corners, and went to the spy place. Oh sight of horror, what did we see but our beloved house, that matchless building, all in flames! Not being able to speak, Schillie shook her fists at them, until I thought she would shake them off. The dear little house, our pride and delight, built with such labour, inhabited with such pleasure, was fast consuming under the hands of these robbers. It seems that having guessed all our stores were there, and having made every effort to find us, and not succeeding, they had resorted to this method in the hope of forcing us to appear. But, such a base act only made us think much more badly of them, and we could hardly tell the news as we went sorrowfully back to the others.

In the meantime they shouted and called to us in every part of the island, offered us every inducement they could think of to make us appear. But, not even the bribe of a promise to take us away from the island moved us one bit. We kept closer and more quiet the more furious they became. This lasted two days. We had not much more food left, and it was absolutely necessary we should get to the gardens to obtain something, or to the other house. This was a dreadful idea. At one time I half thought it would be better to starve altogether. But, could I bear to see the little ones die before my face?

It makes me shiver when I think of that hour, and the settling who was to go. It must be Schillie or I, one to go, one to stay for fear of accidents. The lot fell on her. I would not let her have her way, but would draw lots. I did not know which was the worst fate of two, to go or stay. Jenny offered to go, Otty would go, and the lot fell on Serena of the three girls. Gatty groaned aloud in disappointment. The hour fixed on was just before night, when they would all be carousing. Well! we let them out. Ah! how horrible it was to see them withdrawn from the shelter of the secret cavern. I sprang to recall them my feelings were so dreadful. But they disappeared like lapwings. On our knees we waited for them, Sybil laying her head in the dust for sorrow, her Serena in such danger, Gatty tearing at the rocks and stones until her hands bled. And we could not see them if they were in danger. The suspense was too dreadful to be borne. With a few hasty words to Madame we seized as much rope and cordage as we could carry, and, slipping out expeditiously, we made our way, with the dexterity of long practice, up the side of the cliffs, among the brushwood, to the top of the cavern. Here we could see half over the island. But first we tied two stout ropes strongly to two trees, and let them down into the cavern through one of the apertures which lighted it. This told them inside that we had safely arrived at the top, and the ropes were strong enough to let us down in case we could not safely get back. Sybil, Gatty, and I were these three impatient ones. Having done that, we looked out for our beloved ones. They would be under cover all but the plain. We saw them! They were just going to cross it. How they ran! How we wept and prayed for them. How endless appeared the time when we once more lost them in the plantation by the house. It is beginning to grow dark. They are coming! yes, all four of them, heavily laden evidently. Now they are across the plain! Now the friendly trees receive them! In ten minutes more they will be here! How we shall welcome them, though I cannot think how I am ever to touch the food they have gained at such a risk. Now we must go down to meet them, and help the dear beloved creatures in with their precious loads. The trees crack, "let us make haste," the brushwood opens. Ah! the dreadful sight! Six great pirates appear just as our dear ones burst through the trees, hurrying all the more from being so near home, half-blinded with the weights they carried. It is over! They are surrounded, the pirates shout, they scream, and I fall to the ground with those sounds ringing in my ears.



CHAPTER XXX.

But not a minute did I stay there. We must be up and doing. Despair made us calm and cool. Everything seemed to depend on our judgment and caution. How my heart was wrung with those cries. Poor Sybil, the dear child seemed frantic, almost beside herself; she became resolute, almost fierce; she seemed ready to dare the whole band. But they are carrying them off. Can we resist flying after them? Yes, we must, we must. They are going to take them down the cliffs. But where is Oscar? He is not among them. They go. Now then, now is our time; we must get quickly down, and run to the waterfall to see what is done to our heart's treasures. We got down safely. As we emerge, one by one, we hear a slight sound, and, looking round, perceive Otty hiding in the brushwood. Being a quick sharp boy, he had seen the pirates in a minute, and, falling down among the bushes, had escaped notice.

I clasped him in my arms, Gatty seized his bundle. We rushed into the cavern, and told our tale; not that Sybil stopped or stayed, she made her way to the waterfall at once, and arrived long before she could see them coming down the cliffs. But the ever-provident Gatty, calling on the little girls, ran out, and collected the dearly-bought food; and, taking the little girls, she went boldly to the gardens, and between them they brought in a plentiful supply of everything. She knew she could not help them, neither could we watchers. Night came on, and left us in despair and darkness.

Poor Sybil! the morning sun showed her in despair. We could not recognise the soft smiling girl in the wild, excited, agitated being before us. What were we to do? What could we do? We were ready to do anything. We came to one agreement, that separated we would not be. If we could not rescue them, we should join them in their captivity. Now all the men collect together; we see nothing of their prisoners, but imagine that they are on board the ship. We count twenty-two, the number of all we had seen. They talk earnestly. Eight go on board, and, after some bustle, return with the boat laden with empty casks. These are rolled by the rest to the stream. Now all day the whole party fill the casks, roll them back, and take them on board; they don't rest one hour. We must do something. "Then," said Madame, "let me go out boldly among them. I will find out what they mean to do. They may take me prisoner; but, old and grey-headed, it is more likely they may not think it worth while. I will write what I find out, and put it under a stone near the old tent, if they don't allow me to return." So Madame goes, taking care to appear from quite a different side to our entrance. They surround her, she is bound to a tree, and they proceed with their watering. At last it seems done, and they all appear tired and exhausted, having worked hard, without food or rest, for eight hours. A consultation is held about Madame, and finally she is left loose and unbound, while they all run eagerly to the place where the meal is now being prepared for them. She watches her opportunity, and gradually steals up the cliff; when near the top, she is overtaken, and brought back. Dear old lady, what incredible exertions had she made; we had watched her scrambling up spots we knew she almost fainted to look at. But that was nothing to her dauntless courage and energy. When they were all safe at their meal, Gatty ran from the upper opening to the top of the cliff, from whence they had taken her back, and, sure enough, under a stone, close by which she had dropped her handkerchief, we found a note.