Chapter 5

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_ CHAPTER FIVE.

The shrieks and cries and shouts of Paul's companions rang in his ears as he found himself with them struggling in the foaming water amid the fragments of their boat. His great desire was to preserve his presence of mind. He struck out with hands and feet, not for the purpose of making way through the water, but that he might keep himself afloat till he could ascertain in which direction the sea was driving him. That some of his companions were yet alive, he could tell by hearing their voices, though already it seemed at some distance from each other. He felt that, though now swimming bravely, his strength must soon fail him. Something struck him. He stretched out his hands and grasped an oar. He found himself carried along, even more rapidly than before, amid the hissing foam. He judged by the sensation that he was lifted to the summit of a wave; it rolled triumphantly on with him, and it seemed as if he was thrown forward by it a considerable distance, for he dropped, as it were, into comparatively smooth water. He did not stop, but he was borne on and on till he felt his feet, for the first time, touch for an instant something hard. It might have been the top of a rock, and he would be again in deep water; but no--he stretched out one leg. It met the sand--a hard beach. Directly after, he was wading, and rapidly rising higher out of the water. He found some difficulty in withstanding the waters as they receded, but they did not seem to run back with the force they frequently do; and struggling manfully, he at length worked his way up till he was completely beyond their power. Then exhausted nature gave way, and he sank down in a state of half-stupor on the ground. The hurricane howled over his head; the waves roared around him; he had the feeling that they would come up and claim him as their prey, and yet he had no power to drag himself farther away. He had consciousness enough left to show that he was on a wild sea beach, and to believe that his last moments were approaching. At length he fell asleep, and probably slept for some hours, for when he awoke he felt greatly refreshed. It was still dark. He tried to stand up, that he might ascertain the nature of the country on which he had been thrown; he could see no trees, and he fancied that he could distinguish the foam-covered waves leaping up on the other side of the land. It might be a point of land, or it might be some small sandy islet; it had, at all events, a very desolate appearance. Was he its sole occupant? He scarcely dared to shout out an inquiry, lest the sea-bird's shriek should be the only reply he might receive--or, what would be worse, no responding voice should answer him. He sat down again, wishing that day would come. He felt very sad--very forlorn. He could scarcely refrain from crying bitterly, and almost wished that he had been swallowed up by the foaming sea. He sat on, wishing that the night would come to an end. How long it seemed! Hour after hour passed by; he could not sleep, and yet he would gladly have lost all recollection of his past sufferings, and thoughts of those which were to come. He watched the hurricane decreasing; the wind grew less and less in strength; the waves lashed the island shores with diminished fury; and the foam no longer flew, as heretofore, in dense showers over him. Dawn at last broke, and before long the sun himself rose up out of his ocean bed. Paul started to his feet, and looked about him. Along the beach, at no great distance, his eye fell on two figures. He rushed towards them. They did not see him, for they were sitting down, looking the other way. He shouted for joy on recognising Devereux and O'Grady. On hearing his voice they turned their heads, and the latter, jumping up, ran to meet him. The greeting was warm, for both looked on each other as rescued from the grave. Poor Devereux, however, did not move; and as Paul got nearer to him he saw that he was very pale.

"I'm so glad that you have escaped, Gerrard, both for your sake and ours," exclaimed O'Grady, shaking hands with Paul, and forgetting all about their supposed difference in rank: "I do believe that with your help Devereux may recover. He and I, you see, were thrown on shore near here, and as his feet were hurt I managed to drag him up here; but, had my life depended on it, I could not have dragged him up an inch further. We can manage to get some shelter for him from the heat of the sun, and while one stays by him, the other can go in search of food."

"Oh! my good fellow, it will be all right," said Devereux, scarcely able to restrain a deep groan. "I am sure Gerrard will be a great help, and we ought to be thankful; but I can't help mourning for the poor fellows who have gone. There's Alphonse, and his fiddle too--I didn't know how much I liked the poor fellow."

"Yes, he was a merry little chap; and then that honest fellow, Reuben Cole, and old Croxton too, in spite of his sermons--they were not very long, and he had good reason for them," chimed in O'Grady with a sigh, which sounded strange from his lips. "It seems a wonder that any of us are alive. But I am getting terribly hungry, and it doesn't seem as if there were many fruits or vegetables to be procured on this island; however, I will go in search of what is to be found, though I suspect we shall have to make up our minds to live on shell-fish and sea-weed. In the meantime, Gerrard, do you look after Mr Devereux."

"I will do as you order, sir; but perhaps I know more about getting shell-fish out of the crevices in the rocks than you do, and a person may easily slip in and be drowned: so if you will let me I will go," observed Gerrard.

"No, no, I'll go," said O'Grady; "lend me your knife--I shall want it to scrape the shells off the rocks. And now I'm off."

"Look out for fresh water on your way," said Devereux, as O'Grady was moving off; "I am already fearfully thirsty."

Devereux and Paul watched O'Grady for some time as he walked along the beach, where, as there were no rocks, he vainly searched for shell-fish. At length he was lost to sight in the distance.

"This is, I fear, a barren spot we are on, Gerrard; still, we must never give in while we are alive," observed Devereux. "I say this, because I feel that I am not long for this world; and when you and O'Grady are left alone, you may fall into despair. Remember, struggle on till the last moment, for you do not know when help may come."

"Oh! don't speak in that way, Mr Devereux," cried Paul, taking the other's hand; "you are not acting as you advise us to act. We may find food and water too. The island seems much larger than I at first thought it was."

"I have no wish to die, but still I do not feel as if I should recover," answered Devereux, in a feeble voice. "If I do not, and you should get home, I wish you to go to my father and mother and sisters, and to tell them that my earnest prayer was, that those who have the right to it should have the fortune, and that I said I would rather dig or plough all my days than enjoy what is not my own."

Paul had little doubt as to what Devereux was thinking of; still he did not like to ask him to be more explicit, so he replied--

"I am afraid that I should not be believed if I took such a message, so pray do not ask me to convey it."

Devereux made no reply, and for some time seemed very unwilling to converse. Paul earnestly wished that O'Grady would return, or that Devereux would give him leave to go in search of fresh water, which he thought might be found further in the interior. Devereux, whose eyes had been shut, at last looked up.

"Oh, for a glass of water, Gerrard! None but those who have been placed as we are know its true value," he whispered.

"Let me go and try to find some, sir," said Paul. "I see a large shell a few yards off; it will carry as much as you can drink. And now that the light is stronger, I observe in the distance some shrubs or low trees, and I cannot but hope that water will be found near them."

"Then go," said Devereux; "but take care that you can find me again."

Paul looked about, and saw a small spar floating on to the beach. Without hesitation, he ran into the water to bring it out. He seized the prize, and was dragging it on shore, when a large monster darted towards him. He struck out the spar with all his force in the direction of the creature. It was almost torn from his grasp, and he was nearly dragged, with his face down, into the water; but he held on manfully, and sprang back. He just saw a pair of fierce eyes, two rows of sharp teeth, and a glance of white skin, convincing him that he had narrowly escaped from the jaws of a ravenous shark. He felt also that he had additional cause for thankfulness at having escaped the sharks when he and his companions had been so long helplessly tumbled about in the waves during the night. "Poor Alphonse and the rest! what has been their fate?" he thought. He did not tell Devereux of his narrow escape; but planting the pole in the sand, with a handkerchief tied to the top of it, he set off towards the spot where he hoped to find water. Devereux wished him good speed.

"You will easily find me again," he said, as Paul left him. Paul hurried on. The ground was composed of sand and rock, with scarcely any vegetation. The spot where he had left Devereux was the summit of a bank; the space he was traversing looked as if it had been recently covered by the sea. The trees were much farther off than he had fancied. The heat of the sun increased; he felt very weak and hungry, and it was with difficulty that he could make his way through the deep sand.

"If I do not go on, poor Mr Devereux will die of thirst, and water must be found," he said to himself whenever he found his resolution flagging. A famous word is that _must_. We _must_ do what has to be done. We _must_ not do what ought not to be done. Paul struggled on in spite of the heat, and thirst, and hunger, and weariness, and the strange creatures which crawled out from the crevices in the rocks, and ran along the hot sand. He had no time to examine them. At length he found that he was rising on the side of another bank, and what had seemed mere shrubs in the distance, now assumed the appearance of a group of tall cocoa-nut trees. "Should there be no water below, I shall find what will be almost as refreshing," thought Paul, as he hurried on, almost forgetting his fatigue in his eagerness to reach the spot. The sand, however, seemed deeper and hotter than any he had before traversed. Below the cocoa-nut trees there were low shrubs and some herbage. These indicated water without doubt. He ran on. He stopped and hesitated. There was a long, low building, capable of holding a number of persons. If it was at present occupied, what reception could he expect to meet from its inmates? He had read about savage Caribs, and buccaneers, and pirates, and he thought that, possibly, the people in the hut might be one or the other. He advanced cautiously, expecting every moment to see some one come out of the hut. "I am but a boy, and however bad they may be, they will not hurt me; and I must have the water at all events--for water there must be, or the hut would not have been built on that spot." Saying this, he hurried on, treading lightly, "The people may be asleep, and I may get the water and be away without any one seeing me," he thought. He passed the door of the hut. Before him appeared a tank cut in the coral rock, with the pure clear water bubbling up in the middle of it. Stooping down, he quickly washed out his shell, and then took a long, delicious draught. He felt as if he could never take enough. He did not forget his companions; and while he was considering how little the shell could carry, his eye fell on an iron pot by the side of the tank. He stooped down and filled it, and was carrying it off, when the door of the hut opened, and a woolly head with a hideous black face popped out, and a voice which sounded like a peal of thunder, the roll of a muffled drum, and the squeak of a bagpipe, mingled in one, shouted out to him in a language he could not understand. Instead of running away, Paul turned round and asked the negro what he wanted. The latter only continued growling as before, and making hideous faces, while his eye glanced at the can. Paul made signs that he was only borrowing it, and would bring it back. He, however, did not venture within grasp of the unattractive-looking negro, who showed no inclination to follow him. The reason was soon apparent, for, as the black came rather more out of the doorway, Paul perceived that he had lost both his legs, and stood upon two wooden stumps. No one else appeared to be moving inside the hut, and Paul concluded, therefore, that the black was its only inmate. To avoid that unprepossessing individual, he had made a circuit, and as he looked about to ascertain the direction he was to take, he discovered that he was near the head of a long narrow lagoon, or gulf, which ran up from the sea. He had no time to examine it, as he was anxious to get back to Devereux. He ran on as fast as he could without spilling the water. He thought that he knew the way. He stopped. He feared that he had mistaken it. He looked back at the tall cocoa-nut trees, and wished that he had brought some of the fruit with him; but then he remembered that alone he could not have got it, and that the black, might possibly not have chosen to give him any. Again and again he stopped, fearing that he must be going in a wrong direction. The flagstaff could nowhere be seen. "Poor Mr Devereux! what will become of him should I miss him?" he said frequently to himself, as he worked his way on through the heavy sand. At last the looked-for signal appeared above the top of a bank. Devereux was lying where he had left him, but seemed unconscious of his approach. "Was he asleep--or, dreadful thought! could he be dead?" He ran on, nearly spilling the precious water in his eagerness. He called. Devereux did not answer. He knelt down by his side. His eyes were closed, and his arms were helplessly stretched out like those of the dead. Paul moistened his lips, and by degrees got them far enough apart to pour some water down his throat. At length, to Paul's great joy, Devereux opened his eyes.

"Where is O'Grady?" he asked, and then continued--"Ah! Gerrard, is that you? Where did you get the water? It is delicious! delicious!"

In a short time Devereux appeared to be sufficiently recovered to understand what was said to him; and while Paul was giving him an account of his adventures, O'Grady was seen running towards them. He arrived almost breathless, with his arms full of shell-fish, which he threw before them on the ground.

"I have had hard work to get them, but there is no lack of more on the lee side of the island, so we shall not starve," he exclaimed. "But set to and eat, for it won't do to wait for cooking, as we have no means of kindling a fire. When we have broken our fast, I will tell you what I have seen."

Although raw fish and cold water was not luxurious fare, the party were much strengthened by it, and after a time Devereux declared that he felt able to accompany his companions either to the spring, or in the direction O'Grady had been. They came to the conclusion that the island was inhabited; for O'Grady had seen some objects moving, which he took for people, on a rock at some little distance from the shore, and he supposed that they had gone there in a canoe for the purpose of fishing. It was finally agreed that they would go towards the rock, and endeavour to gain some information as to the island on which they had been cast, which they were not likely to obtain from the black Paul had seen at the hut. Devereux had much difficulty in walking, though with the help of his shipmates he got on faster than could have been expected. They made a shorter cut than O'Grady had taken, and were soon opposite the rock on which he fancied that he had seen some people.

"There are two men and a boy," exclaimed Paul, whose eyesight was the keenest of the party. "Who can they be?"

The three lads hurried on, as fast as Devereux's weakness would allow, to the beach.

"I thought so. There can be no doubt about it," cried Paul. "They see us. They are making signs to us. There is Alphonse, and Reuben Cole, and old Croxton. How can they get to us?"

Devereux and O'Grady were soon convinced that they were their shipmates. O'Grady proposed swimming to them, as the distance was not great; but Paul remembered the shark from which he had so narrowly escaped in the morning, and urged him not to make the attempt. It was then agreed that they must either hollow out a canoe or build a raft.

"But where is the tree from which the canoe is to be formed, and the axes with which it is to be cut down?" asked Paul. "There are no trees nearer than the fountain."

The midshipmen had in their eagerness overlooked that consideration, and there did not seem much greater probability of their finding materials for the raft. Still, something must be done to rescue their shipmates, and that speedily, or they would die of thirst if not of hunger. Paul recollected the spar he had stuck up, and which had some rope attached to it, and O'Grady had observed some driftwood on the beach. They had passed some low shrubs, with thick stems, of a bamboo character, and they would assist to make the platform for the raft if a framework could be formed. The rope, by being unlaid, would serve to bind the raft together. No time was to be lost. Paul set off for the spar, while the other two, making signals to their friends that they would try to help them, went along the shore to collect what wood they could find. There was plenty of driftwood fit for burning, but too small for their object. At last they found a plank, and not far off a spar, and then another plank. Their spirits rose.

"What is one man's poison is another man's meat," cried O'Grady, as he found several planks together. "Some craft has been lost hereabouts, and probably all hands with her, and we are likely to benefit by her remains."

They had now, they fancied, got enough wood, with the aid of the shrubs, to form a raft, on which they might ferry themselves across to the rock. They accordingly began to drag them towards the spot where they had parted from Paul. It was a work, however, of no little labour, as they could draw only one plank at a time over the heavy sands. They had made, three trips, and still Paul did not appear. They began to fear some accident might have happened to him, and, now that they had found so large a supply of wood, to regret that they had sent him for the spar. They had brought together all they had found; and while Devereux began to form the framework, O'Grady cut down with his knife branches from the shrubs near at hand. They had little doubt that their friends on the rock knew what they were about. While thus employed, a shout made them turn their heads, and, looking up, they saw Paul, with the spar on his shoulder, running towards them. When he came up, he had an extraordinary tale to tell. The spar, which had been left planted in the sand, had been removed. He had hunted about for it in every direction, and had almost given up the search, when he saw it lying on the ground in the direction of the hut. It was a sign that there must be somebody on the island besides the black, as with his wooden stumps he could scarcely have got as far and back again without having been seen. Paul reported also that he had seen a vessel a long way to leeward, but that she appeared to be beating up towards the island. However, all their thoughts were required for the construction of their raft. The rope had not been removed from the spar, and this was a great assistance in strengthening it. The raft, however, without the means of guiding it, would be of little use. They had, therefore, to construct a couple of paddles and a rudder, and they then found that, with the help of two small spars, they could form a makeshift mast and yard, their shirts and pocket-handkerchiefs fastened together forming a sail. This would carry them to the rock, as the wind was off the shore, and they must trust to the assistance of their friends to get back. What was their disappointment, on stepping on the raft, to find that it would only well support two people, and that although a third could be carried on it, a fourth would most certainly upset it, and bring it under water. The two midshipmen, therefore, agreed to go, and to leave Paul on shore, much to his disappointment. "Shove us off," cried O'Grady to Paul, as he let fall the sail, to which their neck-handkerchiefs and stockings served as sheets.

Devereux steered with the long spar, which had a piece of board fastened to the end of it, and O'Grady tended the sail with one hand, aided by his teeth, and paddled with the other. They made fair progress, but Paul watched them anxiously, for the raft was difficult to steer, and it was very possible that they might miss the rock, and, if so, have hard work to save themselves from being carried out to sea. The people on the rock waved their hands to encourage them. The wind came somewhat more on the quarter, and they had to paddle hard to keep the raft on its proper course.

Paul was eagerly watching their progress, when he was startled by a loud guttural sound behind him, and looking round there, he saw the hideous black standing on what might be literally called four wooden legs--for besides his two timber extremities, he supported his shoulders on a pair of crutches with flat boards at the bottom, which accounted for his being able to move on so rapidly over the soft sand. Paul could not escape from him except into the sea, so he wisely stood still. There was something very terrific in the black's countenance, increased by the grimaces he made in his endeavours to speak. He pointed to the iron pot, which Paul had slung by his side. Paul at first thought that he was accusing him of stealing it. "If he catches hold of me, I do not know what he may do; but at the same time, as he has no weapon in his hand, I do not suppose that he intends to hurt me," he thought. "I will boldly go up to him and give him the cup, and if he looks as if he would grab me, I can easily spring out of his way."

Paul forgot that the black's crutch would make a very formidable and far-reaching weapon. He advanced slowly, but was much reassured when the black, pointing to the rock, made signs of drinking. "After all, he is come as a friend to help us. He is not so ugly as I thought," he said to himself, as he handed the can to the black. No sooner did the black receive it, than away he went at a great rate over the sand.

Meantime the raft had been making good progress. The great fear was, lest it might meet with some current which would sweep it out of its course. Paul had no selfish feelings--he dreaded any accident as much as if he had been himself on the raft. O'Grady seemed to be paddling harder than ever. Devereux was too weak, he feared, to do much. "I wish that I had gone," he said more than once to himself. Now the raft was again making direct for the rock; the sail was lowered. One of the men caught it as it was being driven round the rock by the surge of the sea, and while they steadied it Alphonse was placed upon it, and immediately it began to return to the shore. Alphonse had taken a paddle, and he and O'Grady worked away manfully. They made good progress, and in a short time reached the beach. Alphonse was sitting on a box. It was the case of his beloved fiddle. He put it under his arm as he stepped on shore, and shook Paul warmly by the hand.

"Ah! this has been the means of saving my life," he said; "I clung to it when I had nothing else to support me, and was washed, with the wreck of the boat to which Croxton and Cole were hanging on, up to the rock, though how we got on to it I do not know, nor do my companions, I believe."

Alphonse looked very pale, and complained of hunger and thirst. While he was speaking, the black was seen coming over the sand at a great rate on his four legs. To one of his arms was slung the can of water. It showed that he had good instead of evil intentions towards the shipwrecked seamen. He made signs for Alphonse to drink, which he thankfully did.

Paul was eager to go off for the rest, and obtained leave to take Devereux's place. The negro seemed to take an interest in their proceedings, and both Devereux and Alphonse expressed their belief that he wished to be friendly.

When O'Grady and Paul arrived at the rock, they found old Croxton and Reuben disputing who should remain to the last.

"The old before the young," cried Reuben.

"Ay, but the old should have the choice of the post of honour," said Croxton.

However, he was at last induced to step on to the raft. It was not a time to stand on ceremony, for the sky gave indications that the weather was about to change, and it was very evident that, should the sea get up, the rock would no longer be tenable. The raft felt the weight of the old man, and the two boys found it much more difficult to paddle to the shore.

They had not got far when Paul observed a dark triangular-shaped object above the water; then he saw a pair of fierce eyes fixed on him. It was a huge shark--large enough to upset the raft with a whisk of his tail. He did not tell his companions, but paddled steadily on. What did the appearance of the monster portend? He had heard of the instinct of sharks. Did the creature follow in the expectation of obtaining a victim?

On this trip the shark was to be disappointed, for they reached the shore in safety, and landing the old man, who was suffering much from thirst, and was therefore doubly grateful for the supply of water brought by the black, they for the last time shoved off. Both the lads felt greatly fatigued, and though they set their sail, they had to paddle hard to keep the raft on a right course. The sea had been getting up, and every moment made Reuben's situation on the rock more insecure. Even if he could have swum across the channel, the monster Paul had seen would have taken good care that he should never have reached the shore. The knowledge of this, as well as their own safety, made them exert themselves to the utmost. Already more than one sea had dashed over the rock, and Reuben had to grasp it tightly to prevent himself from being washed off. A huge foaming billow was seen rolling in. It must sweep over the reef, and perhaps come thundering down on the raft.

The boys had just lowered their sail, and were paddling in. Reuben saw the roller coming. Making a sign to them to paddle back, he sprang into the water and struck out towards them. On came the billow--roaring, foaming. The rock was hidden from view by a mass of spray as the wave curled over it.

"Oh, he has gone! he has gone!" cried Paul, as, looking back, he could nowhere see his friend.

It was but for a moment. He had been concealed by the swelling water. Again he appeared.

"Your hand! your hand!" cried Reuben.

Paul stretched out his hand with terror at heart, for at that moment he saw the dark fin of a shark on the surface of the water. He seized Reuben's hand, and dragged with all his might. The wave rushed on, dashing over the raft, and almost sweeping O'Grady and Paul from off it; but they held on, and it served the purpose of lifting Reuben on to it at the moment that a pair of ravenous jaws appeared opening in an attempt to seize him. The same sea, lifting the raft, drove it rapidly towards the shore--and another following, the boys paddling at the same time, sent it high up on the beach; but even then the receding waters would have carried it off, had not the negro and old Croxton rushed towards them, the former planting his crutches against it, and the latter grasping it tightly. Even thus they could not hold it long, but they gave time to the boys and Reuben to spring on shore, and then it was carried off, and soon shattered to pieces.

The black now made signs to all the party to accompany him to his hut, which, as may be supposed, they gladly did.

"Faith, Mr Charcoal is better than he looks," observed O'Grady, as he bade them enter.

The inside offered a strong contrast to the outside. There was a large table and chairs, and several bed-places, with coverlids to the beds of rich damask, and there were numerous chests and articles of ships' furniture in corners and ranged along the wall. The black, too, produced from a chest several silver and richly-embossed plates, dishes, and other utensils, into which having emptied a rich stew from an iron pot, he placed them before his guests, and made them a sign to fall to. This they were not slack to obey, for all were desperately hungry. No one inquired of what it was composed, though a qualm came over the feelings of Devereux, who was likely to be the most particular, as he hooked up what certainly looked very like the body and feet of a lizard. However, he said nothing, and minced up the remainder of his portion before he examined it. O'Grady made some queer faces at some of the things which caught his eye in the pot, but he said nothing, as he was too hungry to be particular.

When the whole party were satisfied, the good-natured black pointed to the couches, and signified that they might rest on them--a permission of which they did not fail immediately to avail themselves, and in a few minutes all were fast asleep. The black, meantime, in spite of the warmth of the weather, sat down by the side of the fire at which he had been cooking, and gave himself up to contemplation. How completely at that moment were all his guests in his power! Who could tell what injuries he had to avenge on the white men? Whatever were his feelings, he gave them no cause for suspicion.

Having waited till they were so sound asleep that a great gun fired close to their ears would scarcely have awakened them, he took his crutches and stumped out of the hut. Some hours passed away. Paul was the first to open his eyes; no one besides his friends were in the hut. He did not like to rouse them up, though, in a short time, hunger--the same cause which had awoke him--made them also awake. They had consumed all the food the negro had given them in the morning, and they could find nothing more to eat in the hut. O'Grady proposed that they should climb the trees, and get some cocoanuts.

It was, however, more easy to propose than to execute the achievement. He himself first tried to get up a tree, and then Paul made the experiment; but, sailors as they were, they could not manage to grasp the stem with sufficient firmness to ascend. Paul, being the lightest, helped by his companions, had got up some way, when a gruff shout made them turn round, and old Charcoal, as they called the black, was seen shambling along on his crutches towards them. He beckoned Paul to come down from the tree in a way which showed that he would not be disobeyed. They saw that he had a basket on his back, and, pointing to the fountain to intimate that he wanted water, he set about turning its contents, which were of a very heterogeneous character, into the large stew-pot from which he had supplied their breakfast. The midshipmen, as before, saw enough to convince them that it would be wise not too minutely to examine the contents of the pot. The black produced some rum at dinner, which, though they partook of it sparingly, helped down the strange mess.

Two or three days passed by, and the black continued to treat them as at first, though O'Grady suggested that he was possibly like the ogre in the fairy tale--only fattening them up that he might eat them in the end. Still, it was agreed that he was a very good fellow, and the majority were of opinion that he would help them to reach the nearest British island if he had the power. However, hitherto not a word had been exchanged between him and them. He made no objection to their exploring the island, but their discoveries only convinced them that it was very barren, and that no means existed of their getting away from it. They came, to be sure, on a canoe, in which they concluded that the black occasionally went out fishing; but it was only just large enough to hold him, and the paddles were nowhere to be found. Soon after this, O'Grady, who was in advance, saw a large boat hauled up under some bushes. "Hurrah, boys! here's a craft which will carry us to Jamaica, if need be," he shouted, and ran on, followed by Paul and Alphonse.

The tone of his voice changed as he got nearer. "She has a mighty antique look about her, but she may still serve our purpose," he said. "But I'm not quite certain," he added, as he struck his fist against a plank, which crumbled away before the blow. A kick sent another plank into fragments. The whole boat was mere touchwood.

There was a smile on the countenance of old Charcoal, who came in sight directly afterwards and had evidently been watching them at a distance. They were in a certain sense his prisoners, and yet he could not mean them ill, or he would not have treated them with so much hospitality. How he procured their food, was a question, and certainly it was his wish that they should not be able to provide it for themselves. Over and over again they discussed the means by which they might get away; but when they expressed their wish to him by signs, he shook his head, and tried to show that it would be impossible to do so.

At last they began to suspect that he had some motive for detaining them. Not a vessel had been seen since the morning when they were thrown on the island; but one day, on waking, just as it was light, Paul got up, and going out, saw a schooner gliding along through the lagoon or creek leading to the hut. He called up his companions, who were speedily on foot, and all rushed out to see the stranger. She was a long, low, dark schooner, with mischief in her very look--such as was not at that time to be found in European waters.

"That craft doesn't go about on any lawful errand," observed old Croxton to Reuben.

"I should think not, mate. If ever there was a pirate, that 'ere craft is one," was the answer.

The matter was pretty well set at rest by the appearance of a black flag, which had hitherto hung against the mast, but which, now blown out by the breeze suddenly freshening up, exhibited the skull and cross-bones which the rovers of those days delighted to carry, either in the presence of a weak enemy, or to exhibit in triumph to their friends.

The midshipmen felt that their uniforms would not be looked on with a favourable eye by the pirates, and yet they could not nor would have attempted to hide themselves. The vessel was soon securely moored, and several boats being lowered, and hampers, casks, and cases placed in them, the crew, with shouts, and songs, and wild gestures, came on shore. They appeared to be men of all nations and of every hue, from the jet-black African, to the fair Englishman or Dane. They soon made it evident that they intended to indulge in a thorough debauch, for the greater number began without loss of time to unpack cases of wine and provisions in a shady spot under the trees. Several, however, surrounded the Englishmen, and one of them, stepping forward, inquired in a rough tone what had brought them there.

Devereux replied calmly that they had been cast on the island, and hoped that he and his companions would be treated with courtesy.

"That depends on how you behave yourselves, my spark," answered the man, gruffly. "We want a few hands to supply the places of those who were killed in our last engagement. If you like to join us, well and good; if not, look out for squalls." _

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