ved!
If Mr. Heron is living, you shall help us to find him."

Elizabeth's face turned white. "I cannot go with you under false
pretences," she said. "You will think me base--wicked; you cannot think
too ill of me--but----It was not Percival Heron whom I loved. And he
knew it--and loved me still. You--you--have been true in your heart to
your promised husband; but I--in my heart--was false."

She covered her face and burst into passionate weeping as she spoke. But
Angela did not hesitate.

"If that is the case," she said, very softly and sweetly, "if you are
anxious to repair any wrong that you have done to him, help us to find
him now. You have nothing to keep you in England! My brother will say
what I say--Come with us."

CHAPTER XLVII.

FOUND.

"As far as I can calculate," said Percival, "this is the end of March.
Confound it! I wish I had some tobacco."

"Don't begin to wish," remarked Brian, lazily, "or you will never end."

"I haven't your philosophy. I am wishing all day long--and for nothing
so much as the sight of a sail on yonder horizon."

In justice to Percival, it must be observed that he never spoke in this
way except when alone with Brian, and very seldom even then. There had
been a marked change in their relations to each other since the night
when Heron had made what he called "his confession." They had never
again mentioned the subject then discussed, but there had been a steady
growth of friendship and confidence between them. If it was ever
interrupted, it was only when Percival had now and then a moody fit,
during which he would keep a sort of sullen silence. Brian respected
these moods, and thought that he understood them. But he found in the
end that he had been as much mistaken about their origin as Percival had
once been mistaken in attributing motives of a mercenary kind to him.
And when the cloud passed, Percival would be friendlier and more genial
than ever.

"Of course," said Heron, presently, "if a vessel saw our signal--and
hove to, we should have to send out one of our ingeniously constructed
small boats and state our case. Jackson and I would be the best men for
the purpose, I suppose. Then they would send for the rest of you. A good
opportunity for leaving you behind, Brian, eh?"

"A hermit's life would not suit me badly," said Brian, who was lying on
his back on a patch of sand in the shade, with a hat of cocoa-nut fibre
tilted over his eyes. "I think I could easil