As they approached the place, they saw the object of their search, sitting upon a projecting rock that hung over the sea. He did not perceive them at first, and they paused a moment to look at him. He was gazing over the water, which was lighted by the full moon, and he seemed to catch something of the holy tranquillity which marked the scene. Not a wave, not a ripple, was visible upon the placid face of the deep. There was a slight undulation, and the tide seemed to play with the image of the moon, yet so smooth and mirror-like was its surface as to leave that image unbroken. After a little time, the two companions approached their moody friend, who instantly rose and began to descend the rocks toward his retreat; but Brusque called to him, and, climbing up the cliff, he soon joined them. They then stated their errand, and begged François to return with them. “Come,” said Brusque, “your father wishes, nay, commands you to return!” “His wish is more than his command,” said François. “I know not how it is, but it seems to me that my nature is changed: I fear not, I regard not power--nay, I have a feeling within which spurns it; but my heart is like a woman’s if a wish is uttered. I will go with you, though it may be to hear my father’s curse. I have briefly told him my story. I have told him that I have been a pirate, and that I have basely betrayed my companions: but I will go with you, as my father wishes it.” “Nay, dear François!” said Emilie, throwing her arms around his neck, “do not feel thus. Could you have heard what we have just heard, you would not speak or feel as you do.” “And what have you heard?” was the reply. Emilie then told him of the scene they had witnessed in the tent, and the fervent prayer which had been uttered in his behalf. “Dear, dear sister!” said François, throwing his powerful arm around her waist, and clasping her light form to his rugged bosom,--“you are indeed an angel of light! Did my father pray for me? Will he forgive me? Will he forgive such a wretch as I am? Will my mother forgive me? Shalt I, can I, be once more the object of their regard, their affection, their confidence?” “Oh, my brother!” said Emilie, “doubt it not--doubt it not. They will forgive you indeed; and Heaven will forgive you. We shall all be happy in your restoration to us; and however much you may have erred, we shall feel that your present repentance, and the good deeds you have done this night, in saving this little community, your father, your mother, your sister, from insult and butchery, is at once atonement and compensation.”