desert island, where
the Sea Urchins had so many interesting schemes on hand that they did
not trouble to spare a thought to one who had not taken the pains to
make herself a general favourite. For the last few days all the children
had been absorbed in the construction of another hut upon the opposite
end of the island. It was built with loose stones, after the fashion of
an Irish cabin, and they intended to roof it, when it was finished, with
planks covered with pieces of turf. This new building was to surpass
even the old one in beauty and ingenuity. It was to consist of several
rooms, and both boys and girls toiled away at it with an ardour which
would have caused the ordinary British workman to open his eyes in
amazement.

Isobel worked as hard as any one, carrying stones, and mixing a crumbly
kind of mortar made out of sand and crushed limpets, which Charlie
fondly imagined would resemble the famous cement with which mediaeval
castles were built, and would defy the combined effects of time and
weather. Since Belle's desertion she had been much with the Chesters.
Hilda, though several years younger than herself, was a dear little
companion, and Charlie was a staunch friend, standing up for her when
necessary against the Rokeby boys, whose teasing was sometimes apt to
get beyond all bounds of endurance. On the following Friday the whole
party were busy upon the shore, collecting a fresh supply of shell-fish
for their architecture, when Isobel, who had left the others that she
might carry her load of periwinkles to the already large heap under the
rocks, spied her friend the colonel in the distance, and flinging down
her basket, hurried along the beach to greet him.

"Well met, Miss Robinson Crusoe!" cried the colonel. "I was just on the
point of going up the cliff to take another look at the old stone. I'm
like a child with a new toy. I find I can't tear myself away from it,
and I want to keep going back to read the runes again, and to see that
it is safe and uninjured. Will you come with me to keep me company?"

Isobel was nothing loath--she much enjoyed a chat with the owner of the
island; and they sat for a long time on a large boulder near the cross,
while he wrote the runic alphabet for her on a leaf torn from his
pocket-book.

"Now I should at least be able to make out the words of another
inscription if I found it," she said triumphantly, "even if I didn't
know what it meant. I shall copy these, and then