“Night before last on the deck of the ship, scudding before a terrible hurricane; last night alone upon the wreck, in the midst of the stormy sea; to-night on an unknown and what seems to be an uninhabited island. What next, I wonder! Well, I earnestly thank God that my life has been preserved! But what has become of her—of Britomarte, whom I forced to leave the ship? Oh, would to Heaven I had permitted her to remain! She would have been even now by my side! And now—where is she? Where? Shall I ever meet her again on this side of the grave? Ah, Heaven, who can answer any of those questions?” he groaned, and unable longer to sit still, he got up and walked forward, still followed by his faithful little four-footed friend. He walked on and on through the woods at the foot of the mountain, while twilight deepened into night, and the stars came out in the purple-black sky; then he sat down and rested for a little time, while the dog coiled itself up and went to sleep at his feet. Then he got up again and resumed his walk, followed still by his sleepy but loyal little adherent. He walked on until the moon arose, when he discovered that he had come out upon the seacoast, through the grove of cocoa palms that he had seen from the mountain top. CHAPTER XIV. A MEETING BY MOONLIGHT. Britomarte conducted her frightened companion to the thicket of woods and grottoes where she had found the spring. She made her sit down on a fragment of rock under a spreading tree, and then she went to the spring and found a large leaf, which she doubled up in the form of a cup, and caught some water, which she brought to the woman, who drank it eagerly. “Ah, thin! bless the Lord for giving us water itself! Sure, there’s nothing like it, at all at all, whin the thirst is upon one!” said Judith, gratefully, drawing a long breath. Britomarte brought some wild plums and cocoanuts which she saw growing, and gave them to Judith. At first the woman was too frightened by the chattering of monkeys and the growls of hidden forest fiends to open her mouth; but Britomarte overcame her fears and she ate and drank with avidity. Miss Conyers made a meal of the plums she had gathered. But Judith, now that her appetite was satisfied, found another source of trouble. “Sure, the sun is setting, and it will soon be dark! And Lord kape us, where will we slape?” “It is a lovely summer evening, Judith. And there is a deep, dry grotto in the thicket that we have left. We will stay here through the twilight, and through the dark hours before moonrise, and then we will go to the grotto and sleep.” And there they sat through the short twilight, and through the long, dark hours that intervened before the moon arose. The moon arose, a glorious, golden globe, illumining with its rich, soft light the broad expanse of sea, and the strange, wild land, with its stately palm trees.