“My friends,” said Mr. Holdfast, “it seems to be the unanimous sentiment that we leave the island, and sail out far enough to be in the course of passing vessels. I concur in the expediency of this step, and am ready to command one of the boats. Mr. Harrison will command the other.” “How soon shall we start?” asked a passenger. “The sooner the better! To-morrow morning, if it is pleasant.” This decision pleased all. Something was to be done, and hope was rekindled in the breasts of all. Heretofore they had been living on, without hope or prospect of release. Now they were to set out boldly, and though there was the possibility of failure, there was also a chance of deliverance. No sooner was the decision made than all hands went to work to prepare for embarking. In the appointment of passengers, Mr. Holdfast, who commanded the long boat, retained Harry, the professor and Clinton. Six sailors, including Jack Pendleton, made up the complement. “I am glad you are going to be with us, Jack,” said Harry, joyfully. “I shouldn’t like to be separated from you.” “Nor I from you, Harry,” returned Jack. At eight o’clock the next morning they started. As the island faded in the distance, all looked back thoughtfully at their sometime home. Three days the boats floated about on the bosom of the ocean--three days and nights of anxiety, during which no sail was visible. But at length a ship was sighted. “In one way or another we must try to attract attention,” said the mate. Not to protract the reader’s suspense, let me say that by great good fortune the mate of the approaching ship, in sweeping the ocean with his glass caught sight of the two boats, and changed the course of the vessel so as to fall in with them. “Who are you?” he hailed. “Shipwrecked sailors and passengers of the ship Nantucket,” was the answer of Mr. Holdfast. They were taken on board, and discovered that the vessel was the Phocis, from New York, bound for Melbourne. “We shall reach our destination after all, then, professor,” said Harry, “and you will be able to give your entertainments as you at first proposed.” Professor Hemenway shook his head. “I shall take the first steamer home,” he said. “My wife will be anxious about me, and even now is in doubt whether I am alive or dead. You can return with me, if you like.” “No,” answered Harry. “After the trouble I have had in getting to Australia, I mean to stay long enough to see what sort of a country it is. I think I can make a living in one way or another, and if I can’t, I will send to America for the money I have there.” In due time they reached Melbourne, without further mischance. Harry induced Jack to remain with him, but Mr. Clinton, with a new stock of trousers, purchased in Melbourne, returned to America on the same steamer with the professor. Here we leave Harry and Jack to pursue their course to such eminence as they may desire from the characteristics they have portrayed in this narrative. THE END