e doubloons out of the folds of his sash. At last he said--

"I believe, Philip, you have got them all now?--I feel satisfied."

"What danger there can be to you, which I am not equally exposed to, I
cannot conceive," replied Philip; "however--"

Hardly had he said these words, when there was a tremendous roar--a rush
like a mighty wind through the air--a blow which threw him on his back--
a loud cry--and a contention. Philip recovered himself, and perceived
the naked form of Krantz carried off with the speed of an arrow by an
enormous tiger through the jungle. He watched with distended eyeballs;
in a few seconds the animal and Krantz had disappeared!

"God of Heaven! would that thou hadst spared me this," cried Philip,
throwing himself down in agony on his face. "Oh! Krantz, my friend--my
brother--too sure was your presentiment. Merciful God! have pity--but
thy will be done;" and Philip burst into a flood of tears.

For more than an hour did he remain fixed upon the spot, careless and
indifferent to the danger by which he was surrounded. At last, somewhat
recovered, he rose, dressed himself, and then again sat down--his eyes
fixed upon the clothes of Krantz, and the gold which a on the sand.

"He would give me that gold. He foretold his doom. Yes! yes! it was
his destiny, and it has been fulfilled. _His bones will bleach in the
wilderness_, and the spirit-hunter and his wolfish daughter are
avenged."

The shades of evening now set in, and the low growling of the beasts of
the forest recalled Philip to a sense of his own danger. He thought of
Amine; and hastily making the clothes of Krantz and the doubloons into a
package, he stepped into the peroqua, with difficulty shoved it off, and
with a melancholy heart, and in silence, hoisted the sail, and pursued
his course.

"Yes, Amine," thought Philip, as he watched the stars twinkling and
coruscating; "yes, you are right, when you assert that the destinies of
men are foreknown, and may by some be read. My destiny is, alas! that I
should be severed from all I value upon earth? and die friendless and
alone. Then welcome death, if such is to be the case; welcome--a
thousand welcomes! what a relief wilt thou be to me! what joy to find
myself summoned to where the weary are at rest! I have my task to
fulfil. God grant that it may soon be accomplished, and let not my life
be embittered by any more trials such as this."

Again did Philip weep, for Krantz ha