“I am certainly not the offender,” said Mrs. Becker, “but I should not object to receive a portion of the punishment; these great boys—­pointing to Frank—­are too heavy to hang on my neck now; you will replace them, my dears, will you not?”

“Most willingly, madam; but not to deprive them of their places in your affection.”

“In case you should lose that, Master Frank,” said Mrs. Wolston, “you must have recourse to mine.”

“But now, my friends, what do you say to going down to the shore to meet the pinnace, and perhaps the Nelson?” said Mrs. Becker.

“Ah, yes,” said Sophia; “and I will stay at home to wait upon father.”

“No,” said Mary; “I am the eldest—­that is my right.”

“Well, my children, do not quarrel about that,” said Wolston; “I feel rather better; and I dare say a walk will do me good.  Perhaps, when I get tired, Frank will lend me his arm.”

“Better than that,” hastily added Frank; “I shall saddle Blinky; and lead him gently, and you will be as comfortable as in an arm-chair.”

“What is that you call Blinky?”

“Oh, one of our donkeys.”

“Ah, very good; I was afraid you meant one of your ostriches, and I candidly admit that my experiences in equitation do not extend to riding a winged horse.”

“In that case,” said Mrs. Becker, “to keep Blinky’s brother from being jealous, I, shall charge him with a basket of provisions; and we shall lay a cloth under the mangoes, so that our ocean knights, as Jack will have it, may have something to refresh themselves withal as soon as they dismount.”

The little caravan was soon on the march; the two dogs cleared the way, leaping, bounding, and scampering on before, sniffing the bushes with their intelligent noses; then, returning to their master, they read in his face what was next to be done.  Mary walked by the side of Blinky, amusing her father with her prattle.  Sophia, with her antelope, was gambolling around them, the one rivalling the other in the grace of their movements, not only without knowing it, but rather because they did not know it.  The two mothers were keeping an eye on the donkey; whilst Frank, with his rifle charged, was ready to bring down a quail or encounter a hyena.

Some hours after the pinnace hove in sight, the voyagers landed, and received the warm congratulations of those on shore.  When Willis had secured the boat, he took a final survey of the coast, penetrating with his eyes every creek and crevice.

“Is there no trace of the Nelson?” inquired Wolston.

“None!”

“Well, I had all along thought you would find it so; the wind for four days has been blowing that it would drive the Nelson to her destination.  Captain Littlestone, being charged with important despatches, having already lost a fortnight here, has, no doubt, taken advantage of the gale, and made sail for the Cape, trusting to find us all alive here on his return voyage.”