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his eyes and did not speak for five minutes more. The lad tried his pulse a second time. It was barely discernible. The man at length opened his eyes and said:[Pg 131]

"Peter, if you go back to the province of New York beware of Adrian Van Zoon."

"Beware of Van Zoon! Why?"

"He wants to get rid of you. I was to put you out of the way for him, at a price, and a great price, too. But it was not intended, so it seems, that I should do so."

"Why does Adrian Van Zoon want me put out of the way?"

"That I don't know, Peter, but when you escape from the island you must find out."

His eyelids drooped and closed once more, and when Robert felt for his pulse a third time there was none. The slaver and pirate was gone, and the lad was alone.

Robert felt an immense desolation. Whatever the man was he had striven to keep him alive, and at the last the captain had shown desire to undo some of the evil that he had done to him. And so it was Adrian Van Zoon who wished to put him out of the way. He had suspected that before, in fact he had been convinced of it, and now the truth of it had been told to him by another. But, why? The mystery was as deep as ever.

Robert had buried the bodies of the sailors in the sand in graves dug with an old bayonet that he had found in the house, and he interred the captain in the same manner, only much deeper. Then he went back to the house and rested a long time. The awful loneliness that he had feared came upon him, and he wrestled with it for hours. That night it became worse than ever, but it was so acute that it exhausted itself, and the next morning he felt better.

Resolved not to mope, he took down the rifle, put some of the smoked beef in his pocket, and started on a long exploration, meaning to cross the high hills that ran[Pg 132] down the center of the island, and see what the other half was like.

In the brilliant sunshine his spirits took another rise. After all, he could be much worse off. He had a good house, arms and food, and in time a ship would come. A ship must come, and, with his usual optimism, he was sure that it would come soon.

He passed by the lakes and noted the marshy spot where he had shot the ducks. Others had come back and were feeding there now on the water grasses. Doubtless they had never seen man before and did not know his full destructiveness, but Robert resolved to have duck for his table whenever he wanted it.

A mile or two farther and he saw another but much smaller lake, around the edge of which duck also were feeding, showing him that the supply was practically unlimited. Just beyond the second lake lay the range of hills that constituted the backbone of the island, and although the sun was hot he climbed them, their height being about a thousand feet. From the crest he had a view of the entire island, finding the new half much like the old, low, hilly, covered with forest, and surrounded with a line of reefs on which the surf was breaking.

His eyes followed the long curve of the reefs, and then stopped at a dark spot that broke their white continuity. His blood leaped and instantly he put to his eyes the strong glasses that he had found in the house and that fortunately he had brought with him. Here he found his first impression to be correct. The dark spot was a ship!

But it was no longer a ship that sailed the seas. Instead it was a wrecked and shattered ship, with her bow driven into the sand, and her stern impaled on the sharp teeth of the breakers. Then his heart leaped again. A second long look through the glasses told him that the[Pg 133] lines of the ship, bruised and battered though she was, were familiar.

It was the schooner. The storm had brought her to the island also, though to the opposite shore, and there she lay a wreck held by the sand and rocks. He descended the hills, and, after a long walk, reached the beach. The schooner was not broken up as much as he had thought, and as she could be reached easily he decided to board her.

The vessel was tipped partly over on her side, and all her spars and sails were gone. She swayed a little with the swell, but she was held fast by sand and rocks. Robert, laying his clothes and rifle on the beach, waded out to her, and, without much difficulty, climbed aboard, where he made his way cautiously over the slanting and slippery deck.

His first motive in boarding the wreck was curiosity, but it now occurred to him that there was much treasure to be had, treasure of the kind that was most precious to a castaway. A long stay on the island had not entered into his calculations hitherto, but he knew now that he might have to reckon on it, and it was well to be prepared for any event.

He searched first the cabins of the captain and mates, taking from them what he thought might be of use, and heaping the store upon the beach. He soon had there a pair of fine double-barreled pistols with plenty of ammunition to fit, another rifle, one that had been the captain's own, with supplies of powder and ball, a half dozen blankets, a medicine chest, well supplied, and a cutlass, which he took without any particular thought of use.

Then he invaded the carpenter's domain, and there he helped himself very freely, taking out two axes, two[Pg 134] hatchets, two saws, a hammer, two chisels, several augers, and many other tools, all of which he heaped with great labor upon the beach.

Then he explored the cook's galley, gleaning three large bags of flour, supplies of salt and pepper, five cured hams, four big cheeses, several bottles of cordial and other supplies such as were carried on any well-found ship. It required great skill and caution to get all his treasures safely ashore, but his enthusiasm rose as he worked, and he toiled at his task until midnight. Then he slept beside the precious heap until the next day.

He lighted a fire with his flint and steel, which he made a point to carry with him always, and cooked a breakfast of slices from one of the hams. Then he planned a further attack upon the schooner, which had not altered her position in the night.

Robert now felt like a miser who never hoards enough. Moreover, his source of supply once gone, it was not likely that he would find another, and there was the ship. The sea was in almost a dead calm, and it was easier than ever to approach her. So he decided to board again and take off more treasure.

He added to the heap upon the beach another rifle, two muskets, several pistols, a small sword and a second cutlass, clothing, a considerable supply of provisions and a large tarpaulin which he meant to spread over his supplies while they lay on the sand. Then he launched a dinghy which he found upon the ship with the oars inside.

The dinghy gave him great pleasure. He knew that it would be an arduous task to carry all his supplies on his back across the island to the house, and it would lighten the labor greatly to make trips around in the boat. So he loaded into the dinghy as much of the most precious of[Pg 135] his belongings as he thought it would hold, and began the journey by water that very day, leaving the rest of the goods covered with the tarpaulin in the event of rain.

It was a long journey, and he had to be careful about the breakers, but fortunately the sea remained calm. He was caught in currents several times, but he came at last to the opening in the rocks through which he and the captain had entered and he rowed in joyfully. He slept that night in the house and started back in the morning for another load. One trip a day in the dinghy he found to be all that he could manage, but he stuck to his work until his precious store was brought from the beach to the house.

He could not make up his mind even then to abandon the schooner entirely. There might never be another magazine of supply, and he ransacked her thoroughly, taking off more tools, weapons, clothing and ammunition. Even then he left on board much that might be useful in case of emergency, such as cordage, sails, and clothing that had belonged to the sailors. There was also a large quantity of ammunition for the Long Tom which he did not disturb. The gun itself was still on board the ship, dismounted and wedged into the woodwork, but practically as good as ever. Robert, with an eye for the picturesque, thought it would have been fine to have taken it ashore and to have mounted it before the house, but that, of course, was impossible. He must leave it to find its grave in the ocean, and that, perhaps, was the best end to a gun used as the Long Tom had been.

Part of his new treasures he took across the island on his back, and part he carried around it in the boat, which he found to be invaluable, and of which he took the utmost care, drawing it upon the beach at night, beyond the reach of tide or storm.[Pg 136]

More than two weeks passed in these labors, and he was so busy, mind and body, that he was seldom lonely except at night. Then the feeling was almost overpowering, but whenever he was assailed by it he would resolutely tell himself that he might be in far worse case. He had shelter, food and arms in plenty, and it would not be long before he was taken off the island. Exerting his will so strongly, the periods of depression became fewer and shorter.

But the silence and the utter absence of his own kind produced a marked effect upon his character. He became graver, he thought more deeply upon serious things than his years warranted. The problem of his own identity was often before him. Who was he? He was sure that Benjamin Hardy knew. Jacobus Huysman must know, too, and beyond a doubt Adrian Van Zoon did, else he would not try so hard to put him out of the way. And St. Luc must have something to do with this coil. Why had the Frenchman really pointed out to him the way of escape when he was a prisoner at Ticonderoga? He turned these questions over and over and over in his mind, though always the answer evaded him. But he resolved to solve the problem when he got back to the colonies and as soon as the great war was over. It was perhaps typical of him that he should want his own personal fortunes to wait upon the issue of the mighty struggle in which he was so deeply absorbed.

Then his thoughts turned with renewed concentration to the war. Standing far off in both mind and body, he was able to contemplate it as a whole and also to see it in all its parts. And the more he looked at it the surer he was that England and her colonies would succeed. Distance and perspective gave him confidence. The French generals and French soldiers had done wonders, nobody[Pg 137] could be braver or more skilful than they, but they could not prevail always against superior might and invincible tenacity.

Sitting on the ground and looking at the white surf breaking on the rocks, he ended the war in the way he wished. The French and Canada were conquered completely and his own flag was victorious everywhere. Braddock's defeat and Ticonderoga were but incidents which could delay but which could not prevent.

But he did not spend too much time in reflection. He was too young for that, and his years in the wilderness helped him to bear the burden of being alone. Rifle on shoulder, he explored every part of the island, finding that his domain presented no great variety. There was much forest, and several kinds of tropical fruits were for his taking, but quadruped life was limited, nothing larger than small rodents. Well-armed as he was, he would have preferred plenty of big game. It would have added spice to his life, much of which had been spent in hunting with Willet and Tayoga. Excitement might have been found in following bear or deer, but he knew too well ever to

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