elms--canoes and skiffs--church spires and bamboos--all mingled in one
vision of the present and the past.

But we must not leave little Jule.

At last the wishes of many were gratified; and like an aeronaut's
grapnel, her rusty little anchor was caught in the coral groves at
the bottom of Papeetee Bay. This must have been more than forty days
after leaving the Marquesas.

The sails were yet unfurled, when a boat came alongside with our
esteemed friend Wilson, the consul.

"How's this, how's this, Mr. Jermin?" he began, looking very savage as
he touched the deck. "What brings you in without orders?"

"You did not come off to us, as you promised, sir; and there was no
hanging on longer with nobody to work the ship," was the blunt reply.

"So the infernal scoundrels held out--did they? Very good; I'll make
them sweat for it," and he eyed the scowling men with unwonted
intrepidity. The truth was, he felt safer now, than when outside the
reef.

"Muster the mutineers on the quarter-deck," he continued. "Drive them
aft, sir, sick and well: I have a word to say to them."

"Now, men," said he, "you think it's all well with you, I suppose. You
wished the ship in, and here she is. Captain Guy's ashore, and you
think you must go too: but we'll see about that--I'll miserably