s
strangely linked to him in affliction, sat down opposite to Alice, and
sought to comfort her.

Will Corrie, feeling that he could do nothing to cheer his companions in
the circumstances, and being unable to sit still, rose, and going out at
the end of the tent, both sides of which were open, stood leaning on a
pole, and contemplated the scene before him.

In a small creek, or indentation of the shore, close to the knoll on
which the tent stood, two of the pirates were working at a boat which
lay there. Corrie could not at first understand what they were about;
but he was soon enlightened; for, after hauling the boat as far out of
the water as they could, they left her there, and followed, their
comrades to the other side of the island, carrying the oars along with
them.

The spirit that dwelt in Corrie's breast was a very peculiar one. Up to
this point in his misfortunes the poor boy had been subdued,--overwhelmed
by the suddenness and the terrible nature of the calamity that had
befallen him, or, rather, that had befallen Alice; for, to do him
justice, he only thought of her. Indeed, he carried this feeling so far
that he had honestly confessed to himself, in a mental soliloquy, the
night on which he had been captured, he did not care one straw for
himself, or Poopy, or Captain Montague; that his whole and sole distress
of mind and body was owing to the grief into which Alice had been
plunged. He had made an attempt to comfort her one night on the voyage
to the Isle of Palms, when she and Poopy and he were left alone
together; but he failed. After one or two efforts he ended by bursting
into tears, and then, choking himself violently with his own hands, said
that he was ashamed of himself, that he wasn't crying for himself but
for her (Alice), and that he hoped she wouldn't think the worse of him
for being so like a baby. Here he turned to Poopy, and in a most
unreasonable manner began to scold her for being at the bottom of the
whole mischief, in the middle of which he broke off, said that he
believed himself to be mad, and vowed he would blow out his own brains
first, and those of all the pirates afterwards. Whereupon he choked,
sobbed again, and rushed out of the cabin as if he really meant to
execute his last awful threat.

But poor Corrie only rushed away to hide from Alice the irrepressible
emotions that nearly burst his heart. Yes, Corrie was thoroughly subdued
by grief. But the spring was not broken; it