ion the surprise and
delight with which he recognised in them two of his old shipmates.

The two canoes conveyed all hands of us ashore, and my father, after
welcoming us heartily to "his dominions" as we stepped from the canoes
to the beach, gave his arm to Ella, and with me on his other side, and
Bob and Winter following arm-in-arm astern, and the two natives bringing
up the rear, we at once wended our way to the cottage, where we found
that Winter had prepared a sumptuous breakfast in anticipation of our
arrival.

Whilst discussing this meal, I related, at my father's earnest
solicitation, our whole story, commencing with an account of the wreck
on Portland beach, and of the tale of the treasure-island told by the
dying Spaniard, and then going on to relate how we had been induced, by
a belief in this story, to build and fit out the _Water Lily_ and sail
in her in search of the treasure, mentioning, in due course, our meeting
with the seaman who had given us a clue to the _Amazon's_ fate, and of
our resolve, therefore, to search the whole Archipelago, if need be, for
the abandoned ones; and winding up with an account of our late
achievement of the destruction of the _Albatross_ and of the consequent
imprisonment of her crew, upon the island we had so recently sailed
from.

Great was the surprise of my father and his companion as I proceeded,
and frequent their comments and interruptions; but at last I got through
with it, and then, of course, I became anxious, in my turn, to hear how
matters had gone with my father and Winter during their long stay where
they now were.

"I have very little to tell," replied my father, in answer to my
questions; "and that little I should not now be alive to relate, but for
the unceasing care and attention of my friend and comrade, Winter, here,
who refused to save himself from a possible lifetime of captivity on
this island by deserting his commander. He watched me all through a
long and tedious illness, and, under God, was the means of saving my
life for this happy moment. We have never _quite_ despaired of being
restored to home and friends, but latterly we have felt that our
deliverance might be the work of years. At first, we were kept buoyed
up by the hope of being rescued by some passing vessel; but, though we
have maintained a ceaseless watch, we have never sighted a single sail
from the moment of our first arrival here until you hove in sight this
morning. All my char