on his knees. Then he arose, almost in terror
lest the vessel should have disappeared, or it should turn out that he
was the subject of a cruel illusion.

There was no error. There was the little white speck, and he levelled
the glass to get a better look at it. An exclamation now clearly broke
from his lips, and for a minute or two the young man actually appeared
to be out of his senses. "The pinnace," "the Neshamony," however, were
words that escaped him, and, had there been a witness, might have given
an insight into this extraordinary conduct. Mark had, in fact,
ascertained that the sail beneath the peak was no other than the little
craft that had been swept away, as already described, with Betts in it.
Fourteen months had elapsed since that occurrence, and here it was
again, seemingly endeavouring to return to the place where it had been
launched! Mark adopted perhaps the best expedient in his power to
attract attention to himself, and to let his presence be known. He fired
both barrels of his fowling-piece, and repeated the discharges several
times, or until a flag was shown on board the sloop, which was now just
beneath the cliff, a certain sign that he had succeeded. A musket was
also fired from the vessel.

Our young man rather flew than ran to the ravine, down which he went at
a pace that several times placed his neck in jeopardy. It was a very
different thing to descend from ascending such a mountain. In less than
a quarter of an hour the half-distracted hermit was in his boat, nearly
crazy with the apprehension that he might yet not meet with his friend;
for, that it was Bob looking for the Reef and himself, he did not now
entertain the least doubt. The most plausible course for him to adopt
was precisely that which he followed. He pushed off in the Bridget,
making sail on the boat, and getting out of the cove in the shortest
time he could. On quitting his little haven, and coming out clear of all
the rocks, another shout burst out of his very soul, when he saw the
Neshamony, beyond all cavil, within a hundred fathoms of him, running
along the shore in search of a place to land. That shout was returned,
and Mark and Bob recognised each other at the next instant. As for the
last, he just off tarpaulin, and gave three hearty cheers, while the
former sank on a seat, literally unable to stand. The sheet of the sail
got away from him, nor could he be said to know what he was about, until
some little time after h