It was just at this moment that Whackinta chanced, curiously enough, to return to this spot in the course of _her_ wanderings. She screamed in horror at the sight of the dead bears, which was quite proper and natural, and then she started at the sight of the exhausted Bolt, and smiled sweetly--which was also natural--as she hastened to assist and sympathize with him. Ben Bolt fell in love with her at once, and told her so off-hand, to the unutterable rage of Blunderbore, who recovered from his wounds at that moment, and seizing the sailor by the throat, vowed he would kill and quarter, and stew and boil, and roast and eat him in one minute if he didn't take care what he was about. The audience felt some fears for Ben Bolt at this point, but their delight knew no bounds when, shading the giant off and springing backwards, he buttoned up his coat and roared, rather than said, that though he were all the Blunderbores and blunderbusses in the world rolled together and changed into one immortal blunder-_cannon_, he didn't care a pinch of bad snuff for him, and would knock all the teeth in his head down his throat. This valorous threat he followed up by shaking his fist close under the giant's nose and crying out, "Come on'" But the giant did not come on. He fortunately recollected that he owed his life to the brave sailor; so he smiled, and saying he would be his friend through life, insisted on seizing him by the hand and shaking it violently. Thereafter he took Ben Bolt and Whackinta by their right hands, and leading them forward to the foot-lights, made them a long speech to the effect that he owed a debt of gratitude to the former for saving his life which he could never repay, and that he loved the latter too sincerely to stand in the way of her happiness. Then he joined their right hands, and they went down on one knee, and he placed his hands on their heads, and looked up at the audience with a benignant smile, and the curtain fell amid rapturous cheers. In this play it seemed somewhat curious and unaccountable that Whackinta forgot to inquire for her demolished baby, and appeared to feel no anxiety whatever about it. It was also left a matter of uncertainty whether Ben Bolt and his Esquimau bride returned to live happily during the remainder of their lives in England, or took up their permanent abode with Blunderbore. But it is not our province to criticise; we merely chronicle events as they occurred.