Noddy shook out the sail of the boat, and pushing her off, followed the canoe.  Though the exiles had been on the island but little over two months, they had become much attached to their new home, and it was with a feeling of sadness that they bade adieu to it.  The house and other improvements had cost Noddy so much hard labor that he was sorry to leave them before he had received the full benefit of all the comfort and luxury which they were capable of affording.

“Don’t you think we ought to live on the island for a year or so, after all the work we have done there?” said Noddy, as the boat gathered headway, and moved away from the shore.

“I’m sure I should be very happy there, if we had to stay,” replied Mollie, “But I don’t think I should care to remain just for the sake of living in the house you built.”

“Nor I; but it seems to me just as though I had done all the work for nothing.”

“You worked very hard.”

“But I enjoyed my work, for all that.”

“And you think you did not win anything by it,” added she, with a smile.

“I don’t think that.  I used to hate to work when I was at Woodville.  I don’t think I do hate it now.”

“Then you have won something.”

“I think I have won a great deal, when I look the matter over.  I have learned a great many things.”

Noddy had only a partial appreciation of what he had “won,” though he was satisfied that his labor had not been wasted.  He had been happy in the occupation which the necessities of his situation demanded of him.  Many a boy, wrecked as he had been, with no one but a weak and timid girl to support him, would have done nothing but repine at his hard lot; would have lived “from hand to mouth” during those two months, and made every day a day of misery.  Noddy had worked hard; but what had he won?  Was his labor, now that he was to abandon the house, the cisterns, the stores, and the garden, ­was it wasted?

Noddy had won two months of happiness.

He had won a knowledge of his own powers, mental and physical.

He had won a valuable experience in adapting means to ends, which others might be years in obtaining.

He had won a vast amount of useful information from the stubborn toil he had performed.

He had won the victory over idleness and indifference, which had beset him for years.

He had won a cheerful spirit, from the trials and difficulties he had encountered.

He had won a lively faith in things higher than earth, from the gentle and loving heart that shared his exile, for whom, rather than for himself, he had worked.

His labor was not lost.  He had won more than could be computed.  He had won faith and hope, confidence in himself, an earnest purpose, which were to go through life with him, and bless him to the end of his days, and through the endless ages of eternity.  He had worked earnestly; he had won untold riches.

The wind was tolerably fresh after the boats passed the reef, and in two hours they were near enough to a large island to enable the young voyagers to see the objects on the shore.  But they followed the canoe beyond a point of the land; and, after a run of several miles more, they rounded another point, and discovered the tall masts of a ship, at anchor in a small bay.

“It may be many months before we can get home.  This ship may have to cruise a year or two before she obtains her full cargo of oil.”

“I hope not.”

“But we may find some way to get home.  I have all the money I saved from the vessel, and we can pay our passage home.”

The money reminded the orphan girl of her father, and she mused upon the past.  The boat sped on its way, and in a short time reached the ship.

“Hallo, Noddy!” shouted Mr. Lincoln, as the boat approached.  “And Mollie too!”

The mate was overjoyed to see them, and to find that they had been saved from the wreck.  He leaped into the boat, took Mollie in his arms, and kissed her as though she had been his own child.  He grasped the hand of Noddy, and wrung it till the owner thought it would be crushed in his grip.

“I was sure you were lost,” said Mr. Lincoln.

“And we were sure you were lost,” replied Noddy.

“How did it happen?  The cabin was full of water when we left the schooner.”

“You didn’t wait long, Mr. Lincoln.”

“We couldn’t wait long.  The sea made a clean breach over the wreck.  Only four of us were saved; the rest were washed away, and we never saw anything more of them!”

Noddy and Mollie were conducted to the deck of the whale ship, where they were warmly welcomed by the captain and his officers.  The three sailors who had been saved from the wreck of the Roebuck were rejoiced to see them alive and well.  In the presence of the large group gathered around himself and Mollie, Noddy told his story.

“Captain McClintock was lost, then?”

“Yes,” replied Noddy, breaking through the crowd, for he did not like to tell the particulars of his death in poor Mollie’s presence.

At a later hour he found an opportunity to inform his late shipmates of the manner in which the corpse of the captain had been found, and of its burial on the island.  In return, Mr. Lincoln told him that he had cast off the boat a moment after the schooner struck the reef.  The men who happened to be on the quarter-deck with him had been saved; the others were not seen after the shock.  With the greatest difficulty they had kept the boat right side up, for she was often full of water.  For hours they had drifted in the gale, and in the morning, when the storm subsided, they had reached the island.

They had been kindly treated by natives, who were partially civilized by their intercourse with vessels visiting the island, and with which they carried on commerce, exchanging the products of the island for guns, ammunition, and other useful and ornamental articles.  The savages knew that, if they killed or injured any white men, the terrible ships of war would visit them with the severest punishment.

“What ship is this?” asked Noddy, when the past had been satisfactorily explained by both parties.

“The Atlantic, of New Bedford,” replied the mate.  “She is full of oil, and is homeward bound.”

“Good!” exclaimed Noddy.  “I suppose I have nothing further to do in this part of the world, and I may as well go in her.”

“This hasn’t been a very profitable cruise to me,” added Mr. Lincoln.

“Well, I suppose there is no help for it; and I hope you will have better luck next time.”

“I don’t grumble; these things can’t always be helped.  We were lucky to escape with our lives, and we won’t say a word about the wages we have lost.”

“Perhaps you won’t lose them,” added Mollie; and there was a slight flush on her fair cheeks, for her pride and her filial affection were touched by the reflection that these men had suffered from her father’s infirmity.

The captain of the whale ship was entirely willing to take the exiles as passengers; and Noddy told him he had saved a great many articles, which might be of service to him.  The next day, when the vessel had taken in her water, she sailed for the beautiful island.  Outside the reef she lay to, and the boats were sent on shore to bring off such of the goods as would be useful on the voyage.

Noddy and Mollie had an opportunity to visit their island home once more; and, while the former assisted the men in selecting and loading the goods, the latter gathered fresh flowers, and for the last time strewed them on the grave of her father.

The “big heap thigs” was very much reduced by the visit of the boats; but there was still enough left to reward the natives who had befriended the young islanders for the service they had rendered.  According to the captain’s estimate, ­which was rather low, ­he took about four hundred dollars’ worth of goods from the island.  Mollie, as her father’s heir, was the owner of the property, subject to Noddy’s claim for salvage.  With Mr. Lincoln’s aid the accounts were settled.  Mollie insisted upon paying the mate and the three seamen their wages up to the time they would reach their native land.  This, with their own passage, consumed nearly the whole sum.

Besides the property saved from the island, there were about sixteen hundred dollars in gold and silver, and the valuable nautical instruments of Captain McClintock, making a total of over two thousand dollars.  Though the disposition of this property was properly a subject for the maritime courts to settle, Mr. Lincoln and the officers of the ship talked it over, and decided that one half belonged to Mollie, in right of her father, and the other half to Noddy, as salvage, ­which is the part of property saved from a wrecked imperilled ship, awarded to those who save it.

Noddy at first positively objected to this decree, and refused to take a dollar from the poor orphan girl; but when the captain told him that a court would probably award him a larger share, and when Mollie almost cried because he refused, he consented to take it; but it was with a determination to have it applied to her use when he got home.  The whale ship filled away when the goods had been taken on board, and weeks and months she stood on her course, till the welcome shores of their native land gladdened the sight of the exiled children.  Mollie had been a great favorite with the officers and crew during the voyage, and many of them were the wiser and the better for the gentle words she spoke to them.  The captain sold the nautical instruments, and the money was divided according to the decision of the council and officers.  Noddy was now the possessor of about twelve hundred dollars, which was almost a fortune to a boy of twelve.  It had been “work and win” to some purpose, in spite of the disastrous conclusion of the voyage.