"He may already have left for Boston," said Mrs. Smith-Jones; "his letter was written several months ago." Again Burlinghame shook his head. "Do not bank on that, my dear madam," he said kindly. "It may be fifty years before another vessel touches that forgotten shore--unless it be one which you yourselves send." John Alden Smith-Jones sprang to his feet, and commenced pacing up and down the library. "How soon can the _Priscilla_ be put in shape to make the return voyage to the island?" he asked. "It _can_ be done in a week, if necessary," replied Burlinghame. "And you will accompany her, in command?" "Gladly." "Good!" exclaimed Mr. Smith-Jones. "And now, my friend, let us lose no time in starting our preparations. I intend accompanying you." "And I shall go too," said Mrs. Smith-Jones. The two men looked at her in surprise. "But my dear!" cried her husband, "there is no telling what hardships and dangers we may encounter--you could never stand such a trip." "I am going," said Mrs. Smith-Jones, firmly. "I know my Waldo. I know his refined and sensitive nature. I know that I am fully capable of enduring whatever he may have endured. He tells me that he is among interesting people. Evidently there is nothing to fear, then, from the inhabitants of the island, and furthermore I wish personally to meet the people he has been living with. I have always been careful to surround Waldo with only the nicest people, and if any vulgarizing influences have been brought to bear upon him since he has been beyond my mature guidance I wish to know it, that I may determine how to combat their results." That was the end of it. If Mrs. Smith-Jones knew her son, Mr. Smith-Jones certainly knew his wife. A week later the _Priscilla_ sailed from Boston harbor on her long journey around the Horn to the south seas. Most of the old crew had been retained. The first and second officers were new men. The former, William Stark, had come to Burlinghame well recommended. From the first he seemed an intelligent and experienced officer. That he was inclined to taciturnity but enhanced his value in the eyes of Burlinghame. Stark was inclined to be something of a martinet, so that the crew soon took to hating him cordially, but as his display of this unpleasant trait was confined wholly to trivial acts the men contented themselves with grumbling among themselves, which is the prerogative and pleasure of every good sailorman. Their loyalty to the splendid Burlinghame, however, was not to be shaken by even a dozen Starks. The monotonous and uneventful journey to the vicinity of ten south and a hundred and fifty west was finally terminated. At last land showed on the starboard bow. Excitement reigned supreme throughout the trim, white _Priscilla_. Mrs. Smith-Jones peered anxiously and almost constantly through her binoculars, momentarily expecting to see the well-known thin and emaciated figure of her Waldo Emerson standing upon the beach awaiting them.