Eric was tired, and very glad indeed to seat himself near Ben, who
continued to puff away at his pipe, as though he had nothing more to
say. Thus left to himself, Eric let his eyes wander over the strange
and striking scene spread out before him.

He was upon the crest of a sand-hill, a hundred feet or more in height,
which sloped to the beach, upon whose glistening sands the great
billows were breaking, although the day was clear and calm. Far out
beyond the serried lines of white-maned sea-coursers the ocean could be
seen sleeping peacefully. Here and there, upon the sand-bars, the
hulls of vessels in various stages of destruction told plainly how
common was the fate which had befallen the _Francis_, and how rich a
field the wreckers had chosen for their dreadful business.

Turning to his right, Eric saw a long narrow lake in the middle of the
island, its banks densely grown with rushes and lilies. Upon its
placid surface flocks of ducks were paddling, while snipes and
sand-pipers hopped along the margin. The valley of the lake presented
a curious contrast to those portions of the island that faced seaward,
for it was thickly carpeted with coarse grass and wild vines, which
were still green enough to be grateful to the eye weary of the monotony
of sand and sea.

Upon the left the island rose and fell, a succession of sand-hills.
Far in the distance, a faint line of white showed where it once more
touched the ocean, and gave cause for other lines of roaring surges.
All this and more had Eric time to take in before Ben broke silence.
He had been regarding him very thoughtfully for a few moments, and at
length he spoke,--

"Well, lad," said he, "I've been thinking much about ye. I've saved
your life, but I'm not so clear in my mind but what it 'ud have been
best to have let you go with the others."

Eric gave a start of surprise, and there was an alarmed tone in his
voice, as he exclaimed,--

"Why, Mr. Ben, what makes you say that?"

"Well, you see, it's just this way," answered Ben slowly, as though he
were puzzling out the best way to state the case. "You're in a mighty
bad box, and no mistake. Evil-Eye does not fancy you, and will take
the first chance to do for you, if he can keep his own skin whole.
Dead men tell no tales is what he goes by; and if the folks over
there"--jerking his thumb in the direction of the mainland--"only knew
what goes on here, they'd be pretty sure to want to put a stop to