Island, surrounded by seas that towards the far horizon seem unfathomably blue, yet near around are patched in the sunshine with opal, with green, and with azure, and tremble like mercury under the moon and the starlight. Island of fountain-springs, that shoot their white and boiling spray farther skywards than ever spouted Nor'land whale. Island of mountains, high and wild, whose summits seek to withdraw from earth away, and hide their proud heads above the clouds, when storms rage far beneath. Island of green and lonesome glens, where bright-winged birds chant low their love-songs to their listening mates, and where many a strange, fantastic fern nods weeping o'er the hurrying streams. Island of scented orange-groves, of waving palms, of dark dwarf pines--black shapes in many a cloud of green--of the rose, the camellia, the oleander, the passion-flower. Island of wild flowers, that grow and wanton everywhere, that have their home in the woods, that carpet the earth with colour, that clothe the rocks, that hang head downwards in masses over many a foaming cataract, that climb the trees and repose like living, sentient beings among the branches, wooing the bees, attracting the butterflies, and tempting the gay, metallic-tinted moths to expand their cloaks in the sunshine, and fly clumsily to their embrace. Island of seeming contentment, where even human beings live but to idle and to lounge and to love. Beautiful, beautiful island! Yes; but an island on which our heroes must not linger, for twice during the night a dark shape glided across the moon's bright wake, and those on watch on board the _Tonneraire_ knew it was the waiting, watching foe. But when day broke no foe was to be seen. Captain Mackenzie stayed therefore only long enough to take in extra stores, water, and fruit, and to permit his fleet to do likewise; then the signal was made, "Up anchor, and to sea!" In silence the anchors were weighed on board the man-o'-war; but accompanied on the merchant-vessels by the never-failing song, with its frequent abrupt conclusion, without which merchantman Jack finds it impossible to carry on a bit of duty. "Hee--hoy--ee! Hee hoy! Pull, and she comes! Hoy--ee--ee! Hoip!" * * * * *