I may here say, by the way, that my wife soon found that her two sons grew fond of their fair friends, and gave me a hint that some day we should see them wed, which would be a fresh source of joy to us.
I have not much more to tell. The stores I had laid up—furs, pearls, spice, and fruits—were put on board the ship, and left to the care of my sons, who were to sell them. And then the time came for us to part. I need not say that it was a hard trial for my wife; but she bore up well, for she had made up her mind that it was all for the best, and that her sons would some day come back to see her. I felt, too, that with the help of our new friends, we should not miss them so much as we at first thought, and this we found to be the case.
As the next day my boys were to leave me, I had a long talk with them. I told them to act well their part in the new sphere in which they were to move, and to take as their guide the Word of God. They then knelt down for me to bless them, and went to their beds in Rock House for the last time.
I got no sleep all that night, nor did the two boys, who were to start the next day.
As Ernest takes this Tale with him—which I gave him leave to print, that all may know how good God has been to us—I have no time to add more than a few words.
The ship that is to take from us our two sons and our fair guest will sail from this coast in a few hours, and by the close of the day three who are dear to us will have gone from our midst. I can not put down what I feel, or tell the grief of my poor wife.
I add these lines while the boat waits for my sons. May God grant them health and strength for the trials they may have to pass through; may they gain the love of those with whom they are now to dwell; and may they keep free from taint the good name of the Swiss Family Robinson.
THE END.