CHAPTER XVI.
THE CAMP ON THE ISLAND.
As the crew of the Zephyr tugged at their oars, their imperfect discipline imposing double labor upon them, Charles had an opportunity to consider his position.

The bright color of romance which his fancy had given to the enterprise was gone.

The night air was cold and damp, and his companions in error were repulsive to him.

There was no pleasure in commanding such a motley crew of ill-natured and quarrelsome bullies, and if it had been possible, he would have fled from them.

Who plunges into vice may find himself in a snare from which he cannot escape though he would.
At last they reached the island, and the Sylph was anchored near the shore.