completely exhausted by fatigue, notwithstanding his distress and discontent, sank into a profound sleep. The next morning saw him still perplexed with those minor difficulties. For though he could bear, with heroic self-denial, the hardships incidental to his profession, and had not taken a morsel more food, or a drop more water, in their late distress on board ship, than any other of the suffering crew, and had even shared his scanty morsel with his famishing dog, this he _could_ do, for he felt there was something noble and refined in such conduct; but he felt sadly irritated at being thrown on his own resources in the little common everyday necessaries of life. From his infancy, he had been surrounded by servants, who were accustomed to perform for him the most minute services, so that at seventeen his Lordship (though a valiant officer, and perfect in his professional duties,) was ignorant of many things very necessary for every one to know; and if he was acquainted with the methods resorted to in many situations, he was at least very awkward in his attempts of putting them into practice. However, on this occasion, making use of his own good sense, after a little calm reflection, he collected from the sides of the rock some dry grey moss, and, drawing some rays from the sun in the focus of a little perspective glass he had in his pocket, he soon set his pile of wood in a blaze, and cooked sufficient turtle to feed him for a day or two. He had scarcely completed this employment, when the sun, which had for days been shaded by tempestuous clouds, broke forth with its usual splendour; and there was promise of a continuance of that sultry weather so seldom interrupted in these latitudes. Lord Robert, when he felt the sun beat on his uncovered temples, fled for shelter to his cave, which he found nearly of the same temperature as an oven half heated. Panting for breath, he remembered the grove, of which Philip had taken possession, and bent his steps towards it; but he found that this spot of verdure did not consist of more than a rood of land; and he did not choose to be so near young Harley as the farthest extremity of its shelter. So he remained on the burning beach, or under the shade of some arid rock, during the day, determining to make a tour of the island in the cool of the evening, and hoping to fix his residence in some shady vale similar to Philip's territories. But how can his disappointment be expressed, when, after a most fatiguing walk, all the good he gained was a knowledge of the extent of his prison? He had in vain searched for a grove; barren rocks and burning sands alone met his sight: at last, he climbed a conical hill, which towered above the other rocks, and which, from his geological knowledge, he was certain contained the exhausted crater of a volcano. Here he had a view of every nook of the island, which was of the extent of about five miles, and presented a prospect of