ing a short prayer of thanksgiving, was soon in a sound
sleep.

The next morning he was awakened by the chief of the kraal, accompanied
by another man who spoke a little Dutch. He stated his wish to be taken
to the settlement where the ships came and anchored, and was fully
understood; but the man said that there were no ships in the bay at the
time. Philip, nevertheless, requested he might be taken there, as he
felt that his best chance of getting on board of any vessel would be by
remaining at the settlement, and, at all events, he would be in the
company of Europeans, until a vessel arrived. The distance, he
discovered, was but one day's march, or less. After some little
conversation with the chief, the man who spoke Dutch desired Philip to
follow him and that he would take him there. Philip drank plentifully
from a bowl of milk brought him by one of the women, and again refusing
a handful of beetles offered by the chief, he took up his bundle, and
followed his new acquaintance.

Towards evening they arrived at the hills, from which Philip had a view
of Table Bay and the few houses erected by the Dutch. To his delight,
he perceived that there was a vessel under sail in the offing. On his
arrival at the beach, to which he hastened, he found that she had sent a
boat on shore for fresh provisions. He accosted the people, told them
who he was, told them also of the fatal wreck of the Ter Schilling, and
of his wish to embark.

The officer in charge of the boat willingly consented to take him on
board, and informed Philip that they were homeward bound. Philip's
heart leaped at the intelligence. Had she been outward bound, he would
have joined her; but now he had a prospect of again seeing his dear
Amine before he re-embarked to follow out his peculiar destiny. He felt
that there was still some happiness in store for him, that his life was
to be chequered with alternate privation and repose, and that his future
prospect was not to be one continued chain of suffering until death.

He was kindly received by the captain of the vessel, who freely gave him
a passage home; and in three months, without any events worth narrating,
Philip Vanderdecken found himself once more at anchor before the town of
Amsterdam.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

It need hardly be observed that Philip made all possible haste to his
own little cottage, which contained all that he valued in this world.
He promised to himself some months of happ