He answered by springing up again and licking my face and hands,

whimpering excitedly, glad that I had come at last. "Dear Partial,"

said I, "you're no gladder than I am. And what's more, you've nothing

to cost you penitence. Come, we'll go to the dining-room and see

whether there's anything left to eat."

He followed me now along the rolling deck, and happily I was able to

get him some scraps for his breakfast. Peterson heard me talking, and

thrust up a head above the engine-room hatch. He was as crestfallen as

myself when I showed him that, once more, we had been forgetful and

had left a friend while busy in saving ourselves.

I went once more to my cabin--Peterson having discovered, apparently

to his great regret, that so far as could be determined, we had not

started a seam or smashed a timber anywhere. I found a small tent

among other of my sporting equipment and tossed this out to go in the

long boat's cargo. Another fowling piece and ammunition, my canvas

hunting coat and wading boots, followed. Even, I caught down from a

nail the only other pair of trousers available in my wardrobe--for

Davidson's vast midship section comported ill with my own. I found my

watch in these other trousers, and putting a hand in a pocket, fished

out also my portemonnaie. It had certain bills in it--I presume two or

three thousand dollars in all, and I thrust these into my pocket. At

the bottom of the little purse,--among collar buttons and other hard

objects,--I found a little round white object, and once more bethought

me of my pearl which I had won on the far northern river, as it seemed

to me many years before--the pearl which, as I have said, was to be

known as the Belle Helène. I preserved it now.

Peterson and Williams, meantime, were busy in getting aboard a case or

so of water--not forgetting the ninety-three of which I reminded the

old man once more. Some additional stores of bacon and tea, and a

case of eggs, were also taken aboard. At length, with quite a little

cargo in the way of comforts, we embarked once more and started for

our rude encampment.

"We may be here for a month," said Peterson gloomily, looking at the

Belle Helène, now rolling just a little, her keel fast full length

in the mud-bar. "I don't think there's ever going to be any change of

wind--it'll blow steadily this way for a week, anyhow."

"I presume, Peterson," said I coolly, "that you don't see the sun

breaking through the clouds over there, at all. And I fancy that you

will not believe, either, that the sea is lulling now. Very well, I

don't want to make you unhappy, my friend."




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