“Well, my lads, if you want a sleeping dose, I will undertake to do that.”

“But there are objections to this arrangement,” Mrs. Becker hastily added.

“What are they, mother?”

“In the first place, a storm might arise some fine night—­one of those dreadful hurricanes that continue several days, like the one that terrified us so much lately—­and then all communication would be cut off between us.”

“You could always see one another.”

“How so, Willis?”

“From a distance—­with the telescope.”

“Then,” continued Mrs. Becker, “you would be a prey to famine, for though the telescope, good Master Willis, might enable you to see our dinner—­from a distance—­I doubt whether that would prevent you dying of starvation.”

“We might easily guard against that, by taking over a sufficient quantity of provisions with us every night, and bringing them back next morning.”

“But could you carry over my kisses, Willis, and distribute them amongst my children every morning and evening, like rations of rice?”

“If the arrangement will really make you uneasy, Mrs. Becker, I give it up,” said Willis, polishing with his arm the surface of his oil-skin sou’-wester.

“Not at all, Willis.  It is for me to give up my objections.  Besides, I observe Miss Sophia staring at me with her great eyes; she will never forgive me for tormenting her sweetheart.”

“Ah! since I have been staring at you, I have only now to eat you up like the wolf in Little Red Ridinghood,” and in a moment her slender arms were clasped round Mrs. Becker’s neck.

“Good,” said Becker, “there is another point settled—­temporarily.”

“In Europe,” observed Wolston, “there is nothing so durable as the temporary.”

“In Europe, yes, but not here.  To-morrow morning we shall select a tree near Falcon’s Nest, and in eight days you shall be permanently housed in an aerial tenement close to ours, so that we may chat to each other from our respective balconies.”

“That will be a castle in the air a little more real than those I have built in Spain.”

“Then you have been in Spain, papa?”

“Every one has been less or more in the Spain I refer to.  Sophy—­it is the land of dreams.”

“And of castanets,” remarked Jack.

“Then my sweetheart will be alone on his island, like an exile?”

“No, Miss Sophia, we are incapable of such ingratitude.  After enjoying the hospitality of Willis in Shark’s Island, he will surely deign to accept ours at Falcon’s Nest; so, whether here or there, he shall always have four devoted followers to keep him company.”

The Pilot shook Fritz by the hand, at the same time nearly dislocating his arm.

“I wonder why God, who is so good, has not made houses grow of themselves, like pumpkins and melons?” said Ernest.

“Rather a lazy idea that,” said his father; “our great Parent has clearly designed that we should do something for ourselves; he has given us the acorn whence we may obtain the oak.”