ere.

The first streak of daylight fell upon a boatload of haggard men
and women, afraid of, yet longing for, the day. It was discovered
that they had come within half a mile of shore, and the crew pulled
with a will till they beached the boat. One after another in the
shadowy gloom the stiff, cramped figures landed. There were
meetings, but no open rejoicings, because of those others left
behind.

Eustace and Nesta clung to their mother, half sobbing.

"And Peter," she said--"where is Peter?"

"Peter?" said the other two blankly.

"I thought you said he was there?" said Mrs. Orban.

"We--we answered for ourselves," faltered Eustace. "I didn't notice
he didn't speak."

The boat was empty now. Groups of shivering, unstrung people stood
about, utterly incapable of thinking what to do next. But Peter was
not there--nor was Dorothy.

CHAPTER XVI.

WHAT THE TIDE BROUGHT IN.

The stranded party was much in need of a leader till one of the
crew volunteered the information that some miles higher up the
coast there was a beche-de-mer station where they would probably
get some means of communicating with the rest of the world, and at
least find food, of which every one was much in need. Beche-de-mer
fisheries are a feature of the coast, the beche-de-mer being a huge
sea-slug, thought to be a great delicacy.

This particular station was owned by some half-caste Portuguese,
and worked by a mixture of aborigines and Malays, a most
unpromising and ruffianly-looking set. However, they received the
unhappy boatload quite civilly, promised that a messenger should be
dispatched across country to the nearest civilized centre, and
provided a good meal of salt junk, sweet potatoes, rice, and tea.
It did not matter to the exhausted men and women that they had to
eat off tin plates, drink out of tin pannikins, and that the food
was more roughly prepared and served than any they had ever tasted
before.

They camped under some trees for the meal; and many sad eyes
looked towards the great calm sea, where not a trace of last
night's tragedy was to be seen. In the distance there was the sail
of an outgoing vessel--one of the beche-de-mer boats off on a
several months' trip. Besides that, there was just one tiny speck,
not so far out as the sail, but much smaller.

"It's a boat," said the captain of the station, a swarthy
Portuguese. He had been watching the speck for some time through a
telescope. "So far as I can make