“No, you don’t, my fine little fellow. I have had enough of crossing the causeway with you. I had rather carry a two-year-old child at once. We’ll leave you here,” said Justin, looking about for some means of confining the dog. To “leave him” there was easier to say than to do. They might have tied him to a tree, only they had neither rope nor chain. Or they might have shut him up in the grotto, only they had no door to close against his exit. At length a bright idea struck Justin. He took his handkerchief from his pocket, rubbed it well upon his own face and hands and laid it down on the ground, and called the little dog, and said: “Fidelle! Fidelle!—watch it!” And the loyal little creature ran and put his forepaws upon it and stood looking “faithful unto death” with all his might. “Come—we can go now,” said Justin. “Our way leads up the mountain, immediately over the roof of your grotto, sister; and the ascent is steep and rugged; and although you are not a very ancient lady, I think that you will find this staff serviceable; indeed, indispensible,” he added, handing to Miss Conyers a stick that he had cut for her use in climbing, and which she received with a smile of thanks. He gave Judith a similar staff, and then they all set forth. They ascended the mountain in a much shorter time than might have been expected. When they reached the tableland on the summit, Justin found a fragment of rock that would do for a seat, and advised Britomarte to sit down and rest. Then he took out his telescope and adjusted it, and invited her to take a survey of their little kingdom—“For this island is our kingdom, my sister!— “‘We are monarchs of all we survey— Our rights there is none to dispute; From the center all round to the sea We are lords of the bird and the brute.’ “But how much happier we are than was poor, solitary Robinson Crusoe, or his prototype, old Alexander Selkirk!” said Justin, placing the telescope in her hands, as she arose and stood beside him. “Rest the glass upon my shoulder to steady it, and then look,” he added, placing himself in a convenient position as a telescope-stand. She adjusted the instrument according to his advice, pointing it toward the wreck, which she saw distinctly wedged in the cleft of the rock at the end of the causeway. “Poor ship! I lament her fate almost as if she were a human being doomed to death. For, of course, she is doomed. She must break up sooner or later,” said Britomarte. “Yes, sooner or later,” replied Justin, contemplatively; “and it seems even the greater pity, because, as she lays now, she is really not injured beyond repair, were the means of repairing her at hand. However, she will hold together the longer for being hurt no worse.”