sherd."

Mr. Atherton looked down upon his companion with half-closed eyes, and
seemed to be summing him up mentally; after a short conversation he
turned away, and as he filled his pipe muttered to himself: "It is well
for the family that the mother seems a capable and sensible woman, and
that the lad, unless I am mistaken, has a dogged resolution about him as
well as spirit and courage. The girl, too, is a bright sensible lass,
and they may get on in spite of this idiot of a father. However, the man
shows that he possesses a certain amount of sense by the confidence with
which he throws the burden of the whole business of providing a living
for the family on their shoulders.

"Of course they would be much better without him, for I can foresee he
will give them an awful lot of trouble. He will go mooning away among
the natives, and will be getting lost and not heard of for a tremendous
time. Still, I don't know that he will come to much harm. The Maoris
have fine traits of character, and though they have been fighting about
what they call the king question, they have seldom been guilty of any
acts of hostility to isolated settlers, and a single white man going
among them has always been received hospitably; besides, they will
probably think him mad, and savages have always a sort of respect for
madmen. Still, he will be a terrible worry to his family. I have taken a
fancy to the others, and if I can do them a good turn out there in any
way I will."

As the voyage went on Mr. Atherton's liking for Mrs. Renshaw, her son
and daughter, increased greatly, while his contempt for Mr. Renshaw
became modified as he came to know him better. He found that he was
really a capable man in his own particular hobby, and that although weak
and indecisive he was very kind and affectionate with his wife and
children, and reposed an almost childlike confidence in his wife's good
sense.

Madeira had been sighted lying like a great cloud on the horizon, and
indeed the young Renshaws had difficulty when they came up on deck in
the morning in believing that it was really land they saw. No stay was
made here, nor did they catch a glimpse of the Canary Islands, being too
far to the west to see even the lofty peak of Teneriffe. The first time
the ship dropped anchor was at St. Jago, one of the Cape de Verde
Islands; here they took in a supply of fresh water, meat, and
vegetables. The passengers all landed, but were much disappointed with
th