"Fritz and I are making our preparations for a long voyage."

 

            "A long voyage?" Mme. Zermatt repeated, ever uneasy about absences of this kind, however great her confidence might be in the skill of her sons in managing the canoe.

 

            "Make your mind easy, my dear Betsy, and you, too, Jenny," M. Zermatt said. "Jack is only joking. It is only a matter of going to Shark's Island and firing the two regulation guns when the flag is hoisted, and of coming back after seeing that everything is in order."

 

            "That is all right," Jenny replied, "and while Fritz and Jack are going to the island Ernest and Frank and I will go and fish—that is, of course, if Mme. Betsy does not want me."

 

            "No, my dear child," said Mme. Zermatt, "and meanwhile I will go and get the washing ready."

 

            After going down to the mouth of Jackal River, whither Jack brought the canoe, Fritz and he embarked. All wished them a good voyage and the light boat shot quickly out of the little creek.

 

            The weather was fine, the sea calm, the tide favourable. Sitting one in front of the other, each in the narrow opening allotted to him, the two brothers plied their paddles alternately and rapidly drew away from Rock Castle. As the current bore a little towards the east, the canoe was obliged to approach the opposite shore, crossing the inlet which connected Deliverance Bay with the open sea.

 

            At this time Fritz was twenty-five years of age. Vigorous and skilful, well trained in every physical exercise, a tireless walker and an intrepid hunter, this eldest son was a credit to the Zermatt family. His temper, in his boyhood rather bad, had become better. His brothers never suffered now, as they used to do, from those fits of anger of his which had often brought upon him remonstrances from his father and mother. Something had changed him materially.

 

            He could not forget the young girl whom he had taken off Burning Rock, and Jenny Montrose could not forget that she owed her deliverance to him. Jenny was charming, with her fair hair falling in silky ringlets, her graceful figure, her pretty hands, and the fresh complexion which was not spoiled by the sunburn on her face. When she came into this family she brought into it what it had lacked till then, gladness of the home, and she was the good genius of the hearth.

 

            Ernest, Jack, and Frank saw no more than a sister in this charming girl. But was it quite the same with Fritz? Was it the self-same emotion that made his heart beat so? Was it only friendship that Jenny felt for the brave young fellow who had come to her rescue? Already nearly two years had passed since that poignant incident upon Burning Rock. Fritz had not been able to live by Jenny's side without falling in love with her. And many a time did the father and mother talk of what the future held for these two.

 

            If Jack's character had undergone any modification it was in the development of his natural inclination for all exercises which called for strength, courage and skill, and on this score he now had nothing to envy Fritz. His age was now one and twenty, his stature medium, his figure strapping, and he was still the same gallant, merry, pleasant, impulsive, and also good fellow as ever. He had not given up teasing his brothers, but they were always ready to forgive him. Was he not the best pal in the world?

 

            The canoe sped like an arrow over the surface of the water. Fritz had not hoisted the little sail which it carried when the wind was favourable, because the breeze was blowing off the sea. On the return journey the mast would be stepped, and it would not be necessary to use the paddles to make the mouth of Jackal River.

 

            Nothing happened to catch the attention of the two brothers during their short voyage of a couple of miles. To the east, the arid, desert shore showed only a long succession of yellowish dunes. To the west, the verdant coast extended from the mouth of Jackal River to the mouth of Flamingo River and beyond that to False Hope Point.

 

            "There is no doubt," said Fritz, "that our New Switzerland does not lie in the course of any ships, and this Indian Ocean is pretty well deserted."

 

            "Well," said Jack, "I am not so very keen upon their discovering our New Switzerland! A ship which touched at it would not lose any time in taking possession of it. And if it planted its flag here, what would become of ours? You may be quite sure it would not be a Swiss flag, seeing that it isn't exactly over the seas that Switzerland carries her flag, so we should run a considerable risk of not feeling ourselves at home any more."

 

            "And the future, Jack: what about the future?" Fritz replied.

 

            "The future?" Jack made answer; "the future will be a continuation of the present, and if you are not satisfied—"

 

            "All of us are, perhaps," said Fritz. "But you forget Jenny; and her father who believes that she was lost in the wreck of the Dorcas. Must she not be longing to be restored to him? She knows that he is over there, in England, and how is she ever to join him there unless a ship arrives some day?"

 

            "Quite so," said Jack with a smile, for he guessed what was going on within his brother's heart.

 

            In about three quarters of an hour the canoe reached the low-lying rocks of Shark's Island.

 

            Fritz and Jack's first business was to visit the interior and then to make a circuit of the island. It was important to ascertain the condition of the plantations made some years ago round the battery hill.

 

            These plantations were much exposed to the winds from the north and north-east, which lashed the island with their full force before rushing down the funnellike entrance into Deliverance Bay. At this point there were actually atmospheric backwaters, or eddies, of dangerous strength, which more than once already had torn the roofing off the hangar under which the two guns were placed.

 

            Fortunately the plantations had not suffered excessively. A few trees were lying on the beach on the north side of the island, and these would be sawn up to be stored at Rock Castle.

 

            The enclosures in which the antelopes were penned had been so solidly constructed that Fritz and Jack detected no damage done to them.