Ole Thorwald and his party proceeded on board the Talisman, which weighed, anchor, and sailed, with a light breeze, towards the north end of the island--guided through the dangerous reefs by Gascoyne.
Henry and his followers were toiling nimbly up the hills in the direction indicated by the little footprints of Alice; and John Bumpus, proceeding into the mountains in another direction, pushed, under the guidance of Corrie, towards the bay, where the Foam still lay quietly at anchor.
It was evening when these different parties set out on their various expeditions.

The sun was descending to the horizon in a blaze of lurid light.

The slight breeze, which wafted his Britannic Majesty's ship slowly along the verdant shore, was scarcely strong enough to ruffle the surface of the sea.

Huge banks of dark clouds were gathering in the sky, and a hot, unnatural closeness seemed to pervade the atmosphere, as if a storm were about to burst upon the scene.

Everything, above and below, seemed to presage war--alike elemental and human; and the various leaders of the several expeditions felt that the approaching night would tax their powers and resources to the uttermost.
It was, then, natural that in such circumstances the bereaved father should be distracted with anxiety as to which party he should join; and it was also natural that one whose life had been so long devoted to the special service of God should, before deciding on the point, ask, on his knees, his heavenly Father's guidance.
He finally resolved to accompany the party under command of Henry Stuart..