onely on the beach,
which did not yield sufficient food.

Three-quarters of an hour later Godfrey and Tartlet--they had scarcely
spoken during the exploration--arrived at the outskirt of the trees. Not
a trace was there of habitation or inhabitant. Complete solitude. It
might even be doubted if this part of the country had ever been trodden
by human feet.

In this place were a few handsome trees, in isolated groups, and others
more crowded about a quarter of a mile in the rear formed a veritable
forest of different species.

Godfrey looked out for some old trunk, hollowed by age, which could
offer a shelter among its branches, but his researches were in vain,
although he continued them till night was falling.

Hunger made itself sharply felt, and the two contented themselves with
mussels, of which they had thoughtfully brought an ample supply from the
beach. Then, quite tired out, they lay down at the foot of a tree, and
trusting to Providence, slept through the night.

CHAPTER X.

IN WHICH GODFREY DOES WHAT ANY OTHER SHIPWRECKED MAN WOULD HAVE DONE
UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES.

The night passed without incident. The two men, quite knocked up with
excitement and fatigue, had slept as peacefully as if they had been in
the most comfortable room in the mansion in Montgomery Street.

On the morrow, the 27th of June, at the first rays of the rising sun,
the crow of the cock awakened them.

Godfrey immediately recognized where he was, but Tartlet had to rub his
eyes and stretch his arms for some time before he did so.

"Is breakfast this morning to resemble dinner yesterday?" was his first
observation.

"I am afraid so," answered Godfrey. "But I hope we shall dine better
this evening."

The professor could not restrain a significant grimace. Where were the
tea and sandwiches which had hitherto been brought to him when he
awoke? How could he wait till breakfast-time, the bell for which would
perhaps never sound, without this preparatory repast?

But it was necessary to make a start. Godfrey felt the responsibility
which rested on him, on him alone, for he could in no way depend on his
companion. In that empty box which served the professor for a cranium
there could be born no practical idea; Godfrey would have to think,
contrive, and decide for both.

His first thought was for Phina, his betrothed, whom he had so stupidly
refused to make his wife; his second for his Uncle Will, whom he had so
imprudently