was nothing to do but to watch the sharpening outlines, and to see, as fog and mist cleared before the sun, the sheer dark rocks and deep valleys of their new home.

Nearer still and nearer, till the land was full in sight, and the famished and wearied crew could see the green valleys and tree-covered heights of this lovely island, could almost hear the fall of the clear waters which they saw glancing down the face of the rocks.

What land it was they knew not. No houses were to be seen, no ships or canoes flew out from under the shelter of the shore, no natives gathered in fear or wonder on the silent silver beach, only a number of bright-winged birds came as if to greet the new-comers, and settled fearless on the sails and ropes.

Quickly the ship’s one boat was lowered, and some of Lionel’s companions, well armed, put off for the unknown shore. Lionel would fain have been of the number, but neither Arabella nor his friends would permit him to run this risk. Ere long the boat returned, and the adventurers climbed on board as eager to speak as were their companions to hear.

“A dainty and delicious country, truly, Captain Lionel, but men we saw none,” said the first speaker.

“The beasts thereon are tame, and have no fear of man,” continued another.

“Yea, and the land is a garden of flowers, and the air soft, that it would give back health to the dying; there will your fair wife recover her bloom, and we all shall rest after our grievous toil.”

“Fruits are there in plenty, they dropped on us from the trees as we walked,” added the first.

“Here at last we have found a haven,” answered Lionel; “here, my kinsmen and faithful friends, may you regain the strength you have lost in my cause, yea, and win your pardon in England by this fair news. Arabella, you will soon be strong again,” and Lionel, though he spoke confidently, looked with evident anxiety toward the pale face which bore the traces of sorrow as well as of sickness.

Soon the whole party, save some few who remained in charge of the ship, were on land, wandering with the glee of schoolboys over the green plains and wooded hills on which they seemed to be the first to set foot. Choosing a sheltered spot among the laurels and near to the bend of the river, the new lords of the island soon built a shelter for themselves, and brought thither stores from the ship.

In this happy retreat the fugitives spent nearly a fortnight, seeming to forget, in the peace and rest of the present, their past wrong-doing and their past disasters.

But on the thirteenth day a sudden and violent storm broke over the island. The ship was driven from her anchorage by the force of the wind and waves, and was carried, with those of the company then on board, toward the north coast of Africa, where she was at last completely wrecked. The crew escaped with their lives, but only to fall into the hands of the Moors, who, regarding all Christian nations as their enemies, immediately seized those poor English gentlemen as slaves.

Lionel and the few companions who were left with him on the island, grieved deeply for the loss of their companions, though they knew not the terrible fate which had befallen them. And mingled with their sorrow was penitence too, for the wrong act which had, as they felt, brought on them this deserved punishment. But Arabella’s grief was deeper; from the time when this new disaster befell them she never spoke, but sat gazing ever over the now calm sea which parted her from her home; and thus she pined and died, deeply oppressed with grief, and not comforted with the assurance of the pardon which Christ the Saviour gives to all who repent and turn from sin.

Lionel could not endure without her the life which he had sought for her sake, and ere long he, too, died in the arms of his weeping friends, and husband and wife were buried at the foot of the laurels which had been their shelter.

The remaining adventurers determined at any risk to leave the island in the little boat which still remained to them, for the place now became distasteful; but before they sailed they set up over the grave of the husband and wife a wooden cross, on which were carved their names. Then, following the wish of Lionel, they added below a request that if any Christians should hereafter come to dwell in this island, they would build over the grave a church, in which our Saviour Jesus might be worshipped and adored.

The little boat being now ready and stored with birds and other food as provisions for their voyage, they set sail, but were, like their companions, cast on the coast of Africa, and made slaves with those who had gone before them. But the poor Englishmen were not the only captives, for in those times shipwrecked sailors from all parts of Europe were held in cruel slavery by the Moors.

Side by side with the companions of Lionel worked a young Spanish sailor named Jean de Morales, and, glad of any relief from the toil and tedium of their sad life, he listened eagerly to the often-repeated story of the lovely and beautiful island. Of this unknown land he dreamed and thought continually, longing for freedom that he might discover and tread its silent shores, for he was of a nation eager for discovery, and the highest rewards and honors were not thought too great for him who should add a new country to the dominions of the crown of Castile.

At length it happened that a sum of money was sent to Barbary, to ransom some of the Spanish captives, and Jean de Morales was amongst those set at liberty: but the ship in which, with glad heart and high hopes, he sailed for Spain, was captured on its way by a Portuguese man-of-war, under Jean Gonsalie Lascoe. All the captives from Barbary, who had already suffered so much, were permitted to continue their journey home, save only Jean de Morales.

This one exception was made because the Portuguese captain was not willing to give to Spain the glory of the discovery which the Castilian sailor was longing to attempt. Jean de Morales was, however, kindly treated, and at last took service with the Portuguese, his attachment to his native land being doubtless weakened by his long captivity.

Very soon, ships were sent out by Portugal commanded by Gonsalie, with Jean de Morales on board, to seek this new and unclaimed island. The vessels first held their course for the Island of Porto Sanco, near which the new island was supposed to lie, for seen from Porto Sanco toward the north-east was a heavy cloud, sometimes brighter, sometimes darker, but never wholly dispersed.

The ignorant and superstitious inhabitants had many wonderful stories to relate of this cloud; they all believed that no ship could safely approach it. Some held it to be an island hanging between heaven and earth, in which some Christians had been hidden by God from the power of their Moorish foes, some that it led into the land of spirits. Towards this cloud Gonsalie steered his ships, in spite of the murmurs and almost the open mutiny of his terrified crew. “The shadow is but a mist,” said he, “a cloud caused by the heat of the sun’s rays drawing the moisture from the land beneath; have no fear, my children, for those who do their duty will God protect.”

Through the mists and heavy clouds they sailed on, and at last emerged into clear, pure air, to see fair before them the island of their hopes. The sailors who had before resisted the captain’s will, now fell on their knees begging his forgiveness, and praying to be allowed to land at once and wander through the valleys of this lovely