CHAPTER XXIV
HOW WE CAME TO BLACK BARTLEMY'S ISLAND
"Martin, Martin—look!"
I started up, and rubbing sleep from my eyes, turned to gaze whither she pointed; and there, faint and far, above the rolling blue of the seas rose a blue shape. "'Tis the island, Martin! Our voyaging is nigh ended."
"Aye, 'tis the island!" says I.
"'Tis like an island of dream, Martin."
"Nay, 'tis real enough!" quoth I, "And solitary!"
"There is a perspective glass in the locker, yonder, Martin."
"Master Adam was vastly thoughtful!" quoth I, bitterly. And reaching the glass I gave it to her.