iant Bluff, the first to swing aboard, was not seen in the village
again for a fortnight. So it came to pass that he was but newly
acquainted with Emilius.

As I was aimlessly poking about with my twig in the last of those
mysterious holes which Emilius had been so desperately resolved on
digging, a number of small, round, white objects came to view.

"Why, what are those?" was my imbecile exclamation, stooping to see
them better in the half light. Forthwith Giant Bluff was stooping at my
shoulder.

"_Eggs._ Didn't you ever see turtles' eggs before? It beats me what you
learned ladies don't know."

I went abruptly in to Joy-of-Life, and there we sat in the dusk,
overwhelmed with contrition. Poor, dear, misunderstood, ill-treated
Emilius! All he wanted was a chance to get away from the water and lay
her eggs in some warm, deep chamber, where he could lie hidden for
days, and they for weeks, in comfort and security. And how we had
worried her with our continual upjerkings and immersions, how we had
kept him digging one forbidden nursery after another, how arrogantly we
had set ourselves against the unpersuadable urge of instinct!

Before breakfast the next morning we hurried out together to set
Emilius free. There was no Emilius. The tub stood empty, from the tree
dangled a bit of cut cord, the loose earth that marked the holes had
been neatly raked over, there were no small, white, round objects to be
found. Had Emilius gone for good and taken his eggs with her?

As we searched the ground in vain, Giant Bluff sauntered out of his
back door, smiling an inscrutable smile.

"Saw that snapper of yours walking off an hour since. It went under the
back fence out into the woods. Reckon you can't catch it, though it was
traveling rather slow; couldn't hurry much, for it had a dozen little
turtles trotting along on each side. Quite a handsome family!"

Joy-of-Life and I, turning our backs on that stupendous liar, stared at
each other with horror dawning in our eyes.

Had he----? Would he----? Could he----?

_Emilius!_

HUDSON'S CAT

"This night our cat ranne crying from one side of the ship to the
other, looking overboord, which made us to wonder; but we saw
nothing."

--_Juet's Journal._

What did you see, O pussy-cat-mew,
Pet of the _Half-Moon's_ turbulent crew?
Who taught them mew-tiny? Wasn't it you?

Juet kept journal of storm and fog
And the mermaid that set t