tigue.

Helen Rolleston, though dejected herself, could not help pitying him for
his exhaustion in her service, and for his bleeding hands. She undertook
the cooking, and urged him kindly to eat of every dish; and, when he rose
to go, she thanked him with as much feeling as modesty for the great
pains he had taken to lessen those fears of hers which she saw he did not
share.

These kind words more than repaid him. He went to his little den in a
glow of spirits; and the next morning went off in a violent hurry, and,
for once, seemed glad to get away from her.

"Poor Mr. Hazel," said she softly, and watched him out of sight. Then she
got her plait, and went to the high point where he had barked a tree, and
looked far and wide for a sail. The air was wonderfully clear; the whole
ocean seemed in sight; but all was blank.

A great awe fell upon her, and sickness of heart; and then first she
began to fear she was out of the known world, and might die on that
island; or never be found by the present generation. And this sickening
fear lurked in her from that hour, and led to consequences that will be
related shortly.

She did not return for a long while, and, when she did, she found Hazel
had completed her fortifications. He invited her to explore the western
part of the island, but she declined.

"Thank you," said she; "not to-day; there is something to be done at
home. I have been comparing my abode with yours, and the contrast makes
me uncomfortable, if it doesn't you. Oblige me by building yourself a
house."

"What, in an afternoon?"

"Why not? you made a cart in a forenoon. How can I tell your limits? you
are quite out of my poor little depth. Well, at all events, you must roof
the boat, or something. Come, be good for once, and think a little of
yourself. There, I'll sit by and--what shall I do while you are working
to oblige me?"

"Make a fishing-net of cocoanut fiber, four feet deep. Here's plenty of
material all prepared."

"Why, Mr. Hazel, you must work in your sleep."

"No; but of course I am not idle when I am alone; and luckily I have made
a spade out of hard wood at odd hours, or all the afternoon would go in
making that."

"A spade! You are going to dig a hole in the ground and call it a house.
That will not do for me."

"You will see," said Hazel.

The boat lay in a little triangular creek; the surrounding earth was
alluvial clay; a sort of black cheesy mould, stiff, but kindly to work
with