cMasters. Then: "I do not think
any of the men can translate German. Of course there is probably nothing
on this paper of present moment to us.

"What we should do first is to find the rest of our crowd and get off
this island. The _Kennebunk_ will be coming back up the coast and we'll
miss her altogether."

"I hope the other boys are safe," sighed Whistler anxiously.

"I hope they have as good a refuge and are treated as kindly as we are.
But we can't make a search of the island in the dark. Besides, they may
not have landed on this island at all. There are other beaches quite as
hospitable as this one proved, I have no doubt."

Whistler and Torry helped the old woman clear up and wash the bowls and
spoons after supper. She sat in the chimney corner and puffed away
slowly at a short-stemmed and very black pipe.

The seamen were rather afraid of Mag, Jemmy especially. He carefully
crossed his fingers whenever she chanced to glance in his direction.

Mr. MacMasters went outside to assure himself that nothing could be done
toward searching for the rest of the crew of the auxiliary steamer
before daybreak. It was as dark as Erebus without, and the gale still
blew strongly off shore.

The ensign politely asked the strange old woman what arrangements they
should make for the night.

"We don't wish to turn you out of your bed, you know, Ma'am," he said.

She waved him away, the pipe in her hand. "Tumble into yo' bunks," she
ordered. "Old Mag doesn't sleep--hasn't slept for more years than
you-uns are bo'n already. That is why she knows more than others--yes!
The spirits of the night come and whisper to her while she stays awake."

"Arrah! D'ye hear that now?" whispered Irish Jemmy hoarsely. "'Tis as
much as our lives are worth to stay here."

Superstitious as he was, Jemmy was afraid to leave the cabin alone.
Most of the castaways were glad to retire to the berths again and,
blessed with full stomachs, it was not a great while before they fell
asleep.

The two Seacove boys finished helping the old woman.

"You are a pair of good boys," she said after looking at them for some
time and muttering to herself the while. "Why don't you run away? I'll
get you off the island yet, befo' that officer man wakes up."

"Why, Mother! we don't want to run away," Torry told her, laughing. "We
belong to one of the Navy's crack superdreadnaughts."

"Aye, I know. The _Kennebunk_," said Mag, nodding gloomily.

"Sure," Torry re