raft.

They dreamed of an inaccessible island--of confused wealth, of many
vices, and unrestricted carousals. Therefore they still obeyed readily,
but with an air of _abandon_ that puzzled their commander. But Colonel
Odminton did not suspect these natural speculations, for he was looking
forward to a life of great respectability as well as of unrivalled
luxury.

For ten days or so, the "Lightning" danced over the Atlantic. Of course,
it must come to shore somewhere. People cannot live on gold. They must
eat. The superb electric vessel had ice-making machines; and retorts for
distilling the salt water into fresh; but no electrodes were there, to
reduce wood to sugar or coal to beef. The Colonel felt his cheek sting
with the excitement of coming to land. At the same time he felt a
reluctance to do so. He dreaded to meet men. He could not expel the
consciousness that is common to all culprits,--namely, the feeling that
he would be the centre of observation. He could not be apprehended; but
supposing that he were not well received?

On the other hand, when the crew learned of the decision to make for
land, they were almost riotous with joy. They were mad for the
long-delayed chance to spend their high wages in vice and drink. If
nations would conspire to pass an international law to prohibit women
and rum at every port, what a magnificent stride to uninterrupted
manhood all sailors would be forced to take!

But Captain Hans Christian shook his head as the "Lightning" forged
toward the land.

There were some traits that Rupert did not inherit. His limpid heart
understood the disgrace of his position. He pined for freedom and
gradually wasted away. With feverish eyes he watched for the English
coast. It is possible that he had, bereft of an honest father, meditated
desertion at his first opportunity.

Now, at last, they sighted land. The vessel that was swifter than all
other ships afloat, was undisguised. The Colonel had no thought of
converting her into the "Mary Jane" again. No flight, no concealment was
now necessary. It was just past sunrise when the "Lightning" glided into
the troubled harbor of Penzance.

The inhabitants of Land's End are no stay-a-beds, and when the
oil-skinned fishermen, who were ready to push their boats off in the
rising tide, lifted up their eyes and beheld the graceful monster
mysteriously undulating in, with no help of sails or steam, they called
to each other, they uttered direful exc