to see them arrive before our departure; to have their assistance, which was of much consequence in the pinnace, and to know they were safe. often left off my work to take a glance into the interior of the island, hoping to see them. Frequently I mistook the trees in the twilight, which as now coming on, for moving objects. At last, I was not deceived, I saw distinctly a figure walking rapidly.
"They are here!" I cried, running forward, followed by Ernest; and we soon saw a dark-coloured figure approaching. I concluded it was a savage, and, though disappointed, was not alarmed, as he was alone. I stopped, and begged Ernest to recollect all the words he had met with in his books, of the language of the savages. The black man approached; and conceive my surprise when I heard him cry, in my own language—
"Don't be alarmed, father, it is I, your son Fritz."
"Is it possible," said I; "can I balieve it? and Jack? What have you done with my Jack? where is he? Speak …"
Ernest did not ask. Alas! he knew too well; he had seen with his telescope that it was his dear brother Jack that was in the canoe with the savages; but he had not dared to tell me. I was in agony. Fritz, harassed with fatigue, and overwhelmed with grief, sunk down on the ground.
"Oh father!" said he, sobbing, "I dread to appear before you without my brother! I have lost him. Can you ever forgive your unfortunate Fritz?"
"Oh yes, yes; we are all equally unfortunate," cried I, sinking down beside my son, while Ernest
