tin."

"Even fellow as rough as I is better than loneliness?"

"Yes, Martin."

"Though your arms be bruised by my handling! For this I--I would crave
your pardon--"

"'Tis all forgot!" says she, making shift to cover up her arm. "But
your hand is bleeding--"

"A scratch!"

"Have you no other hurts?"

"A bruise or so."

"And did you come a-seeking me, Martin?"

"Yes."

"Are you glad to find me alive?"

"Yes."

"Even a Brandon is better than nobody, Martin?" But at this I arose,
albeit stiffly, and turned away. "Whither would you go?" she
questioned.

"To seek some shelter ere night catch us."

"Shall I not come with you?"

"Can you walk?"

Hereupon she made to rise, but getting to her knees, flinched and bit
her lip:

"I'm so bruised, Martin!" says she.

"Why then, bide you here, yonder cleft i' the rock should serve for
to-night. Howbeit I'll go look." So I limped across the beach to
where showed a great fissure in the cliff hard beside a lofty tree;
being come within this cleft I found it narrow suddenly, and at the end
a small cave very dry and excellent suited to our purpose. Moreover,
close at hand was a little rill that bubbled among mossy rocks, mighty
pleasant to be heard. And hereabouts grew all manner of vines,
sweet-smelling shrubs and fern; of these I gathered goodly quantity and
strowing them within the cave therewith made a very passable bed; which
done, I went back where she lay a-drying her wet garments in the warm
sun as well as she might.

"Martin," says she, mighty doleful, "I have lost my comb and all my
hairpins."

"I will fashion you others."

"Aye, but the boat, Martin, our dear, brave boat!"

"To-morrow I will seek what remains of her."

"And our stores--all lost, Martin!"

"I can find more."

"Where?"

"Among the rocks and on the trees. There should be no lack of fruit
and fish according to Adam."

"Nay but," sighed she, shaking woeful head, "even though we contrive to
live thus, yet here must we 'bide far from our kind with small hopes of
relief and destitute of all things to our comfort."

"Why look now," says I, "here in my pocket is a tinder box, the which
is a very comfortable thing, here in my belt a good, stout, knife,
which is another comfortable thing, and yonder is a cave, dry and airy,
shall make you a goodly chamber; so take comfort to-night, at least."
And drawing my knife I betook me to whetting the blade on the sole of
my damp shoe