Chapter 14

"Compell the hawke to sit, that is unmanned,
Or make the hound, untaught, to draw the deere,
Or bring the free, against his will, in band,
Or move the sad, a pleasant tale to heere,
Your time is lost, and you no whit the neere!
So love ne learnes, of force, the heart to knit:
She serves but those, that feels sweet fancie's fit."

_Churchyard_,

We leave the reader to imagine with what feelings Mark heard these
facts. Bridget, for whom his tenderness was unabated; Bridget, who had
been the subject of so many of his thoughts since his shipwreck, had
shown herself worthy to be thus loved, and was now on an island that he
might easily reach in a run of a few hours! The young man retired
further within the grove, leaving Bob and Socrates behind, and
endeavoured to regain his composure by himself. Before rejoining his
companions, he knelt and returned thanks to God for this instance of his
great kindness. It was a long time, notwithstanding before he could
become accustomed to the idea of having associates, at all. Time and
again, within the next month or two, did he _dream_ that all this
fancied happiness was only a _dream_, and awoke under a sense of having
been the subject of an agreeable illusion. It took months perfectly to
restore the tone of his mind in this respect, and to bring it back into
the placid current of habitual happiness. The deep sense of gratitude to
God he never lost; but the recollection of what he had suffered, and
from what he had been relieved by the Divine mercy, remained indelibly
impressed on his heart, and influenced his future life to a degree that
increased the favour a thousand-fold.

The mode of proceeding was next discussed, in the course of doing which
Mark communicated to Bob, somewhat in detail, the circumstance of the
recent convulsion, and the changes which it had produced. After talking
the matter over, both agreed it would be every way desirable to bring
the whole party, and as much of the property as could be easily moved,
up to windward at once. Now, that the natives knew of the existence of
Rancocus Island, their visits might be often expected, and nothing was
more uncertain than their policy and friendship. Once on Rancocus Island
the Peak could be seen, and from the Peak the Reef was visible. In this
way, then, there was every reason to believe that the existence of their
little colony would soon become known, and the property they possessed
the object of cupidity and violence. Against such consequences it would
be necessary to guard with the strictest care, and the first step should
be to get everything of value up to windward, with the least possible
delay. The natives often went a long distance, in their canoes and on
their rafts,