THE next day was Sunday. Hazel had kept a calendar of the week, and every
seventh day was laid aside with jealousy, to be devoted to such simple
religious exercises as he could invent. The rain still continued, with
less violence indeed, but without an hour's intermission. After breakfast
he read to her the exodus of the Israelites, and their sufferings during
that desert life. He compared those hardships with their own troubles,
and pointed out to her how their condition presented many things to be
thankful for. The island was fruitful, the climate healthy. They might
have been cast away on a sandy key or reef, where they would have
perished slowly and miserably of hunger and exposure. Then they were
spared to each other. Had she been alone there, she could not have
provided for herself; had he been cast away a solitary man, the island
would have been to him an intolerable prison.
In all these reflections Hazel was very guarded that no expression should
escape him to arouse her apprehension. He was so careful of this that she
observed his caution and watched his restraint. And Helen was thinking
more of this than of the holy subject on which he was discoursing. The
disguise he threw over his heart was penetrable to the girl's eye. She
saw his love in every careful word, and employed herself in detecting it
under his rigid manner. Secure in her own position, she could examine his
from the loop-holes of her soul, and take a pleasure in witnessing the
suppressed happiness she could bestow with a word. She did not wonder at
her power. The best of women have the natural vanity to take for granted
the sway they assume over the existence which submits to them.
A week passed thus, and Hazel blessed the rain that drove them to this
sociability. He had prepared the bladder of a young seal which had
drifted ashore dead. This membrane, dried in the sun, formed a piece of
excellent parchment, and he desired to draw upon it a map of the island.
To accomplish this, the first thing was to obtain a good red ink from the
cochineal, which is crimson. He did according to his means. He got one of
the tin vessels and filed it till he had obtained a considerable quantity
of the metal. This he subjected for forty hours to the action of
lime-juice. He then added the cochineal, and mixed till he obtained a
fine scarlet. In using it he added a small quantity of a hard and pure
gum--he had found gum abounded in the island. His pen was made from an
osprey's feather, hundreds of which were strewn about the cliffs, and
some of these he had already secured and dried.
Placing his tin baler before him, on which he had scratched his notes, he
drew a map of the island.
"What shall we call it?" said he.
Helen paused, and then replied, "Call it 'GODSEND' Island."
"So I will," he said, and wrote it down.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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