Dickory put on his coat and
waistcoat and clapped upon his head his high cocked hat. Then he rapidly
followed Mander to the beach, which they reached before the boat touched
the sand.

When the man in the stern of the boat, which was now almost within
hailing distance, saw the two figures run down upon the beach, he spoke
to the oarsmen and they all stopped and looked around. The stop was
occasioned by the sight of Dickory in his uniform; and this, under the
circumstances, was enough to stop any boat's crew. Then they fell to
again and pulled ashore. When the boat was beached one of its occupants,
a roughly dressed man, sprang ashore and walked cautiously towards
Mander; then he gave a great shout.

"Heigho, heigho!" he cried, "and Mander, this is you!"

Then there was great hand-shaking and many words.

"Excuse me, sir," said the man, raising his hat to Dickory, "it is now
more than two years since I have seen my friend here, when he was
marooned by pirates. We were all on the same merchantman, but the pirate
took me along, being short of hands. I got away at last, sir" (all the
time addressing Dickory instead of Mander, this being respect to his
rank), "and shipping on board that brig, sir, I begged it of the captain
that he would drop anchor here and take in water, although I cannot say
it was needed, and give me a chance to land and see if my old friend be
yet alive. I knew the spot, having well noted it when Mander and his
family were marooned."

"And this is Lucilla's ship," said Dickory to himself. But to the sailor
he said: "This is a great day for your friend and his family. But you
must not lift your hat to me, for I am no officer."

For a long time, at least it seemed so to Dickory, who wanted to run to
the cave and tell the good news, they all stood together on the sands
and talked and shook hands and laughed and were truly thankful, the men
who had come in the boat as much so as those who were found on the
island. It was agreed, and there was no discussion on this point, that
the Mander family should be carried away in the brig, which was an
English vessel bound for Jamaica, but the happy Mander would not ask any
of the boat's crew to visit him at his home. Instead, he besought them
to return to their vessel and bring back some clothes for women, if any
such should be included in her cargo.

"My family," said he, "are not in fit condition to venture themselves
among well-clad people. They are, indee