obstinately at the ground; and the expression of his face was so
sullen and forbidding that altogether he appeared to be an
exceedingly unpleasant individual. His companion eyed him for a
short time in a cool, calculating manner, and then rose painfully to
his feet.

'So,' he said rapidly in French, waving his hand towards the
frowning cliffs, 'so, my Pierre, we are in the land of promise;
though I must confess'--with a disparaging shrug of the shoulders--
'it certainly does not look very promising: still, we are on dry
land, and that is something after tossing about so long in that
stupid boat, with only a plank between us and death. Bah!'--with
another expressive shrug--'why should I call it stupid? It has
carried us all the way from New Caledonia, that hell upon earth, and
landed us safely in what may turn out Paradise. We must not be
ungrateful to the bridge that carried us over--eh, my friend?'

The man addressed as Pierre nodded an assent, then pointed towards
the boat; the other looked up and saw that the tide had risen, and
that the boat was drifting slowly away from the land.

'It goes,' he said coolly, 'back again to its proper owner, I
suppose. Well, let it. We have no further need of it, for, like
Caesar, we have now crossed the Rubicon. We are no longer convicts
from a French prison, my friend, but shipwrecked sailors; you
hear?'--with a sudden scintillation from his black eyes--
'shipwrecked sailors; and I will tell the story of the wreck.
Luckily, I can depend on your discretion, as you have not even a
tongue to contradict, which you wouldn't do if you had.'