He left him and went to one of the caverns where articles rescued from the wreck were kept, and looked up a set of fetters, consisting of handcuffs and anklets, such as are often kept on board East Indiamen for the restraint of a possible mutineer or other criminal. He had brought them off the wreck, not with the most distant idea that he should ever be obliged to put them to their legitimate use, but for the same reason that he saved every portable piece of iron that he could find—namely, because he knew that it would be valuable on their desert island, where they might remain for years, or for life, cut off from all supplies from without. Having found the fetters, he returned to the grotto, and, stooping down, fastened them upon the wrists and ankles of the sleeping pirate. CHAPTER XXVIII. THE CAGED TIGER. When Captain Spear awoke his rage knew no bounds, but Justin firmly made him acquainted with the state of affairs, whereupon the captain became sulky and refused to take any food, saying that he preferred to die and that his death would be laid at the door of Justin, who would meet his due reward when his crime was discovered. Next morning he had so far relented as to drink a cup of Judy’s tea, given with reluctance by the Irishwoman, who vowed that hanging was too good for him. In the course of a few days he came sulkily out of his cavern and crept about through the groves and by the streams, or along the seashore of the beautiful island. He had a limited use of his fettered limbs—enough to help himself in all absolute personal needs; for instance, he could walk slowly, wash his face, or feed himself; but he could not inflict the slightest injury upon either of the women, if he happened to meet them together or singly in his rambles about the island. Whenever he met Judith, she mocked him. When he met Miss Conyers, she returned his greeting kindly. If the arch enemy of God and man had been their prisoner she could not have treated him unkindly. Justin always used him humanely, and encouraged his companions in exile to do likewise. “The man has forfeited his life by every law of every civilized land! but we are not warranted to become his executioners. We have only to deprive him of the power of committing more crime, and then to treat him with Christian charity,” he argued. Justin Rosenthal was now a very busy man. In the two years that he and his friends had spent upon the island he had made what progress was possible in “making the wilderness to bloom and blossom as the rose.” The first few months had been spent in the stupendous labor of getting the stores, the animals and the furniture from the wreck over the long, rugged, almost impassable reef of rocks to the island.