At all events, it was certain, that both kite and cord were lost to them for ever.
"Ach! how very unfortunate!" exclaimed Caspar, in a vexed tone, when they had finally arrived at this conviction.

"What ill-starred luck we have, to be sure!" "Nay! brother," remarked Karl, in a tone of reproval; "do not chide Fortune for what has happened just now.

I acknowledge it is a great misfortune; but it is one for which we may justly blame ourselves, and only ourselves.

By sheer negligence we have lost the kite, and along with it, perhaps, the last chance of regaining our liberty." "Yes, you speak truly," rejoined Caspar, in a tone of mingled regret and resignation.

"It _was_ our fault, and we must suffer for it." "But are you quite sure, brother Karl," resumed he, after a pause, and referring to the conversation that had already passed between them--"are you quite sure there are no more of these paper-bearing trees ?" "Of course," replied the plant-hunter, "I am not positive--though I fear it is as I have said--that there are no more.