"And I hope that it will be followed by many more as fine, since we are at the beginning of spring."

 

            "What are you going to do to-day?" Frank asked.

 

            "We are going fishing," Fritz answered, showing his net and lines.

 

            "In the bay?" M. Zermatt enquired.

 

            "No," Fritz answered; "if we go up Jackal River as far as the dam, we shall catch more fish than we shall require for breakfast."

 

            "And then?" said Jack, addressing his father.

 

            "Then, my boy," M. Zermatt replied, "we shall not be at a loss for a job. In the afternoon, for example, I am thinking of going to Falconhurst to see if our summer dwelling requires any repairs. Besides, we shall take advantage of the first fine days to visit our other farms, Wood Grange, Sugar-cane Grove, the hermitage at Eberfurt and the villa at Prospect Hill. And then there will be the animals to attend to and the plantations to get into order."

 

            "That, of course, papa," Fritz rejoined. "But since we can have an hour or two this morning, come along, Jack; come along, Frank."

 

            "We are quite ready," cried Jack, "and I can feel a fine trout at the end of my line already. Houp-la! Houp-la!"

 

            Jack pretended to gaff the imaginary fish caught on his hook while calling in glad and ringing tones: "Off we go!"

 

            Perhaps Frank would have preferred to remain at Rock Castle, where his mornings were generally devoted to study. However, his brother pressed him so eagerly that he made up his mind to follow him.

 

            The three young men were going towards the right bank of Jackal River when M. Zermatt stopped them.

 

            "My children," he said, "your eagerness to go fishing has made you forget—"

 

            "Forget what?" Jack asked.

 

            "What we have made a practice of doing every year, at the beginning of the dry season."

 

            Fritz came back to his father.

 

            "What can that be?" he said, scratching his head.

 

            "What—do you not remember, Fritz—or you, Jack?" M. Zermatt persisted.

 

            "Is it that we have not given you an embrace in honour of the spring?" Jack replied.

 

            "No, no!" Ernest answered, who had just come out from the paddock, rubbing his eyes and stretching his limbs.

 

            "Then it is because we are going off without having had breakfast, isn't it, Ernest, you young glutton?" said Jack.

 

            "No," Ernest replied, "it has nothing to do with that. Papa only wants to remind you of our custom of firing the two guns of Shark's Island battery every year at this time."

 

            "Precisely," M. Zermatt answered.

 

            As a matter of fact, it had been the custom of Fritz and Jack, on one of the days in the second fortnight of October, at the end of the rainy season, to go to the island at the entrance to Deliverance Bay and rehoist the New Switzerland flag, then to salute it with two guns whose report could be heard quite distinctly at Rock Castle. After this, without much hope, they took a survey of the whole sea and shore. Perhaps some ship passing through those waters would catch the sound of the two reports. Perhaps it would soon arrive within sight of the bay. Perhaps some shipwrecked people had even been cast upon some point of this land, which they must suppose to be uninhabited, and these discharges of ordnance would give them warning.

 

            "It is quite true," said Fritz, "we were about to forget our duty. Go and get the canoe ready, Jack, and we shall be back in less than an hour."

 

            But Ernest objected.

 

            "What is the good of this artillery racket? Think of all the years we have fired our guns, only to wake the echoes of Falcon's Nest and Rock Castle! Why waste these charges of powder?"

 

            "That is you all over, Ernest!" Jack exclaimed. "If a cannon shot costs so much it must bring back so much, or else be silent!"

 

            "You are wrong to talk like that," said M. Zermatt to his second son, "and I do not regard the cost as wasted. To fly a flag over Shark's Island cannot be sufficient, for it would not be seen from far out at sea, while our cannon shots can be heard a good two and a half miles. It would be foolish to neglect this chance of making our presence known to any ship passing by."

 

            "In that case," said Frank, "we ought to fire every morning and every evening."

 

            "Certainly; just as they do in the navy," Jack declared.

 

            "In the navy there is no danger of running short of ammunition," remarked Ernest, who was by far the most obstinate of the four brothers.

 

            "Make your mind easy, my boy; we are not nearly out of powder," M. Zermatt assured him. "Two cannon shots, twice a year, at the beginning and the end of winter, only cost a trifle. It is my opinion that we should not discontinue this custom."

 

            "Papa is right," said Jack. "If the echoes of Falcon-hurst and Rock Castle object to being disturbed from their sleep, well and good! Ernest will make an apology to them in verse, and they will be delighted. Come along, Fritz!"

 

            "We must go and let Mamma know first" said Frank.

 

            "And Jenny too," Fritz added.

 

            "I will attend to that," M. Zermatt replied, "for the reports might cause them some surprise, and even lead them to imagine that some ship was coming into Deliverance Bay."

 

            Just at this moment Mme. Zermatt and Jenny Montrose, who were coming out of the verandah, stopped at the gate of the orchard.

 

            After having embraced his mother Fritz gave his hand to the young girl, who smiled upon him. And as she saw Jack moving towards the creek where the long boat and the pinnace were moored, she asked:

 

            "Are you going to sea this morning?"

 

            "Yes, Jenny," answered Jack, returning.