e of the crew said, "If Paul will spare our lives, we will yield."
"Then," said Friday, "you shall know the king's will." Then Paul said to
them, "You know my voice; if you lay down your arms the king will spare
your lives!"
They fell on their knees to beg the same of me. I took good care that
they did not see me, but I gave them my word that they should all live,
that I should take four of them to work the ship, and that the rest
would be bound hand and foot, for the good faith of the four. This was
to show them what a stern king I was.
Of course I soon set them free, and I put them in a way to take my place
on the isle. I told them of all my ways, taught them how to mind the
goats, how to work the farm, and make the bread. I gave them a house to
live in, fire arms, tools, and my two tame cats, in fact, all but Poll
and my gold.
As I sat on the top of the hill, Paul came up to me. He held out his
hand to point to the ship, and with much warmth took me to his arms, and
said, "My dear friend, there is your ship! For she is all yours, and so
are we, and all that is in her."
I cast my eyes to the ship, which rode half a mile off the shore, at the
mouth of the creek, and near the place where I had brought my rafts to
the land. Yes, there she stood, the ship that was to set me free, and to
take me where I might choose to go. She set her sails to the wind, and
her flags threw out their gay stripes in the breeze. Such a sight was
too much for me, and I fell down faint with joy. Paul then took out a
flask which he had brought for me, and gave me a dram, which I drank,
but for a good while I could not speak to him.
Friday and Paul then went on board the ship, and Paul took charge of her
once more. We did not start that night, but at noon the next day I left
the isle!
That lone isle, where I had spent so great a part of my life--not much
less than thrice ten long years.
When I came back to the dear land of my birth, all was strange and new
to me. I went to my old home at York, but none of my friends were there,
and to my great grief I saw, on the stone at their grave, the sad tale
of their death.
As they had thought, of course, that I was dead, they had not left me
their wealth and lands, so that I stood much in want of means, for it
was but a small sum that I had brought with me from the isle. But in
this time of need, I had the luck to find my good friend who once took
me up at sea. He was now grown too old fo
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