the top of the ridge. The captain's unexpected ardor for scenery
carried him thither whenever he had half an hour to spare from the
work in the cave. Needless to say, Crusoe and I timed our visits
so as not to conflict with his. A less discreet beast than Crusoe
would long ere this have sampled the captain's calves, for the
sailor missed no sly chance to exasperate the animal. But the wise
dog contented himself with such manifestations as a lifted lip and
twitching ears, for he had his own code of behavior, and was not to
be goaded into departing from it.

One day, as Crusoe and I came down from the ridge, we met Captain
Magnus ascending. I had in my hand a small metal-backed mirror,
which I had found, surprisingly, lying in a mossy cleft between the
rocks. It was a thing such as a man might carry in his pocket,
though on the island it seemed unlikely that any one would do' so.
I at once attributed the mirror to Captain Magnus, for I knew that
no one else had been to the ridge for days. I was wondering as I
walked along whether by some sublime law of compensation the
captain really thought himself beautiful, and sought this retired
spot to admire not the view but his own physiognomy.

When the captain saw me he stopped full in the path. There was a
growth of fern on either side. I approached slowly, and, as he did
not move, paused, and held out the mirror.

"I think you must have dropped this, Captain Magnus. I found it on
the rocks."

For an instant his face changed. His evasive eyes were turned to
me searchingly and sharply. He took the glass from my hand and