in, covered with the Union Jack as a pall, was raised on
the shoulders of six of the seamen, and they bore it to the grave,
followed by Mrs Seagrave and the children, the commander of the
schooner, and several of the men. Mr Seagrave read the funeral
service, the grave was filled up, and they all walked back in silence.
At the request of William, the commander of the schooner had ordered the
carpenter to prepare an oak paling to put round the grave, and a board
on which was written the name of the deceased and day of his death. As
soon as this had been fixed up, William, with a deep sigh, followed the
commander of the schooner to the house to announce that all was
finished, and that the boat waited for them to embark.

"Come, my dear," said Mr Seagrave to his wife.

"I will, I will," replied Mrs Seagrave, "but I don't know how it is,
now that the hour is come, I really feel such pain at quitting this dear
island. Had it not been for poor Ready's death, I really do think I
should wish to remain."

"I don't doubt but that you feel sorrow, my dear, but we must not keep
Captain Osborn waiting."

As Mr Seagrave was aware that the commander of the schooner was anxious
to get clear of the islands before night, he now led his wife down to
the boat. They all embarked, and were soon on the deck of the schooner,
from whence they continued to fix their eyes upon the island, while the
men were heaving up the anchor. At last sail was made upon the vessel,
the garden-point was cleared, and, as they ran away with a fair wind,
each object on the shore became more indistinct. Still their eyes were
turned in that direction.

As they ran down to the westward, they passed the cove where they had
first landed, and Mr Seagrave directed Mrs Seagrave's attention to it.
She remained for some time looking at it in silence, and then said as
she turned away:

"We shall never be more happy than we were on that island, Seagrave."

"It will indeed be well, my dear, if we never are less happy," replied
her husband.

The schooner now ran fast through the water, and the island was every
minute less distinct; after a time, the land was below the horizon, and
the tops of the cocoa-nut trees only to be seen; these gradually
disappeared. Juno watched on, and when at last nothing could be seen,
she waved her handkerchief in the direction of the island, as if to bid
it farewell, and then went down below to hide her grief.

The wind continued