ing it about
mid-afternoon.

I found that during my absence the others had been busying themselves in
a variety of ways to make our cavern comfortably habitable. Julius, for
instance, had collected a quantity of stones, which he had so arranged
at the mouth of the cavern that the V-shaped floor had been nicely
levelled up and made smooth, so that it was now possible to pass in and
out without the risk of badly spraining one's ankles; while the women
had collected enough dry fern to make comfortable beds for us all.
Also, the interior of the cavern had been more carefully and
systematically examined, with the result that three separate and
distinct but adjoining chambers had been found, two of which would serve
admirably for sleeping apartments, while a third and very lofty one had
a large hole in its roof, situated apparently in the midst of a clump of
trees, admitting sufficient light to make it quite pleasantly habitable
as a general living and working room.

This, of course, was all very well and quite as we would have it; it was
a wise and reasonable policy to make ourselves as comfortable as we
could during our sojourn upon the island. But how long was that sojourn
to last? That was the matter now uppermost in my thoughts. Were we to
sit down and wait patiently until something should come along and take
us off, or were we to take the initiative and, while availing ourselves
of the hospitality of the island, contrive some means whereby, failing
other help, we might effect our own rescue by making our way to some
civilised spot from which it would be possible to return to our
respective homes? I had been thinking a good deal of late about my poor
mother in her little house at Newton Ferrers. It was now over five
months since the _Stella Maris_ had been cast away, and more than six
since I had last written home; and I knew that by this time the dear
soul would be fretting her heart out with anxiety on my account. I was
therefore growing every day more eager and determined to find a way of
deliverance, if only that the maternal anxiety might be allayed.

But what could I do? There was the boat, certainly; but after our
recent dreadful experiences in her I knew that nothing would induce Mrs
Vansittart to undertake another boat voyage. She had already said so
with much emphasis, and the others had echoed her resolution; and,
indeed, I could not blame them. A single experience of that kind was
quite enough fo