ten across her tears. It had not
seemed to the young girl that her lover's death might be
doubtful; but scarcely had this new hope entered her heart, than
she embraced it without reserve.

The old sailor determined that the "Jeune-Hardie" should put to
sea without delay. The solidly built ship had no need of repairs.
Jean Cornbutte gave his sailors notice that if they wished to
re-embark, no change in the crew would be made. He alone replaced
his son in the command of the brig. None of the comrades of Louis
Cornbutte failed to respond to his call, and there were hardy
tars among them,--Alaine Turquiette, Fidele Misonne the
carpenter, Penellan the Breton, who replaced Pierre Nouquet as
helmsman, and Gradlin, Aupic, and Gervique, courageous and well-tried
mariners.

Jean Cornbutte again offered Andre Vasling his old rank on board.
The first mate was an able officer, who had proved his skill in
bringing the "Jeune-Hardie" into port. Yet, from what motive
could not be told, Andre made some difficulties and asked time
for reflection.

"As you will, Andre Vasling," replied Cornbutte. "Only remember
that if you accept, you will be welcome among us."

Jean had a devoted sailor in Penellan the Breton, who had long
been his fellow-voyager. In times gone by, little Marie was wont
to pass the long winter evenings in the helmsman's arms, when he
was on shore. He felt a fatherly friendship for her, and she had
for him ah affection quite filial. Penellan hastened the fitting
out of the ship with all his energy, all the more because,
according to his opinion, Andre Vasling had not perhaps made
every effort possible to find the castaways, although he was
excusable from the responsibility which weighed upon him as
captain.

Within a week the "Jeune-Hardie" was ready to put to sea. Instead
of merchandise, she was completely provided with salt meats,
biscuits, barrels of flour, potatoes, pork, wine, brandy, coffee,
tea, and tobacco.

The departure was fixed for the 22nd of May. On the evening
before, Andre Vasling, who had not yet given his answer to Jean
Cornbutte, came to his house. He was still undecided, and did not
know which course to take.

Jean was not at home, though the house-door was open. Andre went
into the passage, next to Marie's chamber, where the sound of an
animated conversation struck his ear. He listened attentively,
and recognized the voices of Penellan and Marie.

The discussion had no doubt been going o