OR THE DESERT ISLAND. 151

At length, a little ashamed at this public display of his
tender emotions, Charles stood up, and saw with satisfac-
tion that his uncle himself had indulged in tears.

“Now,” said the Baron D’Ermincourt, “you see how
intense the curiosity of all on board to know something
of your history. I hope you will tell us by what means
you have reappeared among us, who were all so firmly
persuaded of having seen you perish without the power to
render any assistance, that we honoured your memory
with an abundance of tears.”

Count Charles looked around for Philip, and saw him
standing where he had left him. He walked over to him,
and, taking him by the hand, led him to his uncle.

“Jt is to this brave youth, Philip Merville, that, after
God, yon owe the preservation of your nephew’s life.”

The captain extended his hand to Philip, who silently
pressed it to his lips.

“ Ah! my dear uncle,” said the count, delighted at the
welcome he gave to Merville, “you know not the half of
his worth; nor do you know,” he continued, ina lower tone,
“the extent of my unworthiness.”

“As to your unworthiness, my dear nephew, | know
nothing about it, and I hope I never shall,” rejoined the
baron.