or the lonely island.

Day by day and week by week, the man and boy, getting each hour stronger
and better, worked and worked. He with his great arms hewing and sawing,
and the child attending upon him like a shadow. By great toil and
exertion the doctor had succeeded in placing some of the timbers of the
jetty together as launching-ways, and on the cradle he had laid the
wreck of the old boat. Then, with an old saw and some tools he found
near the site of the mat sheds by the cove, he began to build the frail
ark which was to carry him and the child from the hated island. From the
storehouse, too, he obtained plenty of provisions to supply their wants,
and old sails and rope he found in abundance. Babette's collection of
worldly wealth provided them with linen and clothing, together with
utensils for eating and drinking; and he had made their dwelling in the
little chapel clean and habitable. Here they slept by night on an old
sail, and soundly too, the sleep of repentance and innocence. With the
early morning the man and the boy arose, and took their way to the cove.
The little fellow was clean and tidy now, dressed in a little loose
calico frock, and a queer contrivance of an old bonnet fashioned out of
Babette's gear, and on his feet were a pair of little canvas slippers,
stitched for him by his protector. After a bath in the basin of the
inlet the fire was kindled, and the simple breakfast prepared. Then,
while the strong man hewed, and sawed, and hammered beneath a temporary
awning which covered the open workshop, the boy would pick up shells
along the cove, or with a little rod and line, seated on a flat rock
near by, jerk out fish from the basin to serve for dinner. Sometimes he
would wander about in search of nails and spikes for the boat, or gather
sticks for the fire, but never out of hail, and never beyond the
watchful eyes of his friend. Yes, those watchful, kind eyes followed his
slightest movements; and while the hammer was going in vigorous blows on
the planks, or the axe chipping away a timber, his pleasant voice sang
Creole songs to the child, or encouraged his innocent prattle. A loaded
musket, which, with some ammunition, he had dug out from the wreck of
his old quarters, stood leaning against an upright post under the shade,
and woe to the man or beast that might have dared to approach the boy!
In the burning heat of the tropical day the labor ceased, and the child
either lay on his back on the soft