s way.

Another night was approaching; it was necessary to collect some more
wood to keep in his fire, for should a cloudy day come on, he would have
no means of relighting it. At last, seeing the necessity of exerting
himself, he got up, intending to fill two of the largest clam shells he
had picked up with water, which might serve to quench his thirst during
the night. Directly he rose to his feet, Neptune showed his
satisfaction by leaping about him, and barked with joy when he found
that he was directing his steps towards the fountain. On arriving at
it, both he and the dog drank their fill, then placing the shells by its
side, he set to work to collect fire-wood. There was no great amount of
fallen sticks, and it took him some time before he could pick up a
sufficient quantity.

As formerly, he observed in the distance the smoke of a fire, which he
felt sure had been kindled by Hargrave. The dog, by pulling his
trousers, attempted to draw him in that direction.

"No, no; we will not go and interfere with the fellow. He'll fancy that
we want his assistance, or are begging for some of the food he may have
obtained. We must show him that we can do very well by ourselves," he
said, addressing his dog. Fastening the sticks to his back by a piece
of rope he had picked up, and taking the two clam shells in his hand, he
set off to return to the cave. He had gone a short distance without
thinking of Neptune, when on looking round he found that the dog had
disappeared.

"Where can the animal have gone to?" he exclaimed. "Has he deserted me
for the sake of that scoundrel? If he has, when he comes back I'll tie
him up and teach him that he must not associate with my enemy."

On reaching the cave he sat down more oppressed even than before by
gloomy thoughts. He believed that the _Marie_ had been cast away on a
remote island, near which no English ship was likely to pass, and that
he might remain there for months, perhaps for years, without having an
opportunity of escaping, even should he live so long; but he felt so
sick and weak that he feared his existence would soon be cut short.
"Perhaps," he thought, "that young Hargrave may take it into his head to
murder me. What is there, to prevent him? All that he has to do is to
bury me in the sand, with the rest of the poor fellows. And if
questions are asked, he could say I was cast lifeless on the shore, or
died afterwards from sickness, and such, judging fro