proved his skill in bringing the Jeune-Hardie into port. Yet, from what motive could not be told, André made some difficulties and asked time for reflection.
"As you will, André," replied Cornbutte. "Only remember that if you accept, you will be welcome."
Jean had a devoted sailor in Penellan the Breton, who had long been his fellow-voyager. In times gone by, little Marie was wont to pass the long winter evenings in the helmsman's arms, when he was on shore. He felt a fatherly friendship for her and she had for him an affection quite filial. Penellan hastened the fitting out of the ship with all his energy, all the more because, according to his opinion, André Vasling had not perhaps made every effort possible to find the castaways, although he was excusable from the responsibility which weighed upon him as captain.
Within a week the Jeune-Hardie was ready to put to sea. Instead of merchandise, she was completely provided with salt meats, biscuits, barrels of flour, potatoes, pork, wine, brandy, coffee, tea, and tobacco.
The departure was fixed for the 22nd of May. On the evening before, André Vasling, who had not yet given his answer to Jean Cornbutte, came to his house. He was still undecided, and did not know which course to take.
Jean was not at home, though the house door was open. André went into the passage, next to Marie's chamber, where the sound of an animated conversation struck his ear. He listened attentively, and recognized the voices of Penellan and Marie.
The discussion had no doubt been going on for some time, for the young girl seemed to be stoutly opposing what the Breton sailor said.
"How old is my uncle Cornbutte?" said Marie.
"Something about sixty years," replied Penellan.
"Well, is he not going to brave danger to find his son?"
"Our captain is still a sturdy man," returned the sailor. "He has a body of oak and muscles as hard as a spare spar. So I am not afraid to have him go to sea again!"
"My good Penellan," said Marie, "one is strong when one loves! Besides, I have full confidence in the aid of Heaven. You understand me, and will help me."
"No!" said Penellan. "It is impossible, Marie. Who knows whither we shall drift, or what we must suffer? How
