ut her earrings with howls of delight.

Lanty, struggling on, was likewise pounced upon, and bereft of his fine
green and gold livery coat and waistcoat, which, though by no means his
best, and stained with the sea water, were grasped with ecstasy,
quarrelled over, and displayed in triumph. The steward had secured a
rope by which he likewise reached the shore, only to become the prey of
the savages, who instantly made prize of his watch and purse, as well as
of almost all his garments. The five unfortunate survivors would fain
have remained huddled together, but the natives pointing to some huts on
the hillside, urged them thither by the language of shouts and blows.

'Faith and I'm not an ox,' exclaimed Lanty, as if the fellow could have
understood him, 'and is it to the shambles you're driving me?'

'Best not resist! There's nothing for it but to obey them,' said the
steward, 'and at least there will be shelter for the child.'

No objection was made to his lifting her in his arms, and he carried her,
as the party, half-drowned, nearly starved and exhausted, stumbled on
along the rocky paths which cut their feet cruelly, since their shoes had
all been taken from them. Lanty gave what help he could to the Abbe and
Victorine, who were both in a miserable plight, but ere long he was
obliged to take his turn in carrying Estelle, whose weight had become too
much for the worn out Hebert. He was alarmed to find, on transferring
her, that her head sank on his shoulder as if in a sleep of exhaustion,
which, however, shielded her from much terror. For, as they arrived at a
cluster of five or six tents, built of clay and the branches of trees,
out rushed a host of women, children, and large fierce dogs, all making
as much noise as they were capable of. The dogs flew at the strange
white forms, no doubt utterly new to them. Victorine was severely
bitten, and Lanty, trying to rescue her, had his leg torn.

These two were driven into one hut; Estelle, who was evidently considered
as the greatest prize, was taken into another and rather better one,
together with the steward and the Abbe. The Moors, who had swum ashore,
had probably told them that she was the Frankish Bey's daughter; for
this, miserable place though it was, appeared to be the best hut in the
hamlet, nor was she deprived of her clothes. A sort of bournouse or
haik, of coarse texture and very dirty, was given to each of the others,
and some rye cakes baked