At the sound of Dick’s voice all the crew, in a moment, were upon the alert. The men who were not on watch rushed to the deck, and Captain Hull hurried from his cabin to the bows. Mrs. Weldon, Nan, and even Cousin Benedict leaned over the starboard taffrails, eager to get a glimpse of what had thus suddenly attracted the attention of the young apprentice. With his usual indifference, Negoro did not leave his cabin, and was the only person on board who did not share the general excitement.

Speculations were soon rife as to what could be the nature of the floating object which could be discerned about three miles ahead. Suggestions of various character were freely made. One of the sailors declared that it looked to him only like an abandoned raft, but Mrs. Weldon observed quickly that if it were a raft it might be carrying some unfortunate shipwrecked men who must be rescued if possible. Cousin Benedict asserted that it was nothing more nor less than a huge sea-monster; but the captain soon arrived at the conviction that it was the hull of a vessel that had heeled over on to its side, an opinion with which Dick thoroughly coincided, and went so far as to say that he believed he could make out the copper keel glittering in the sun.

“Luff, Bolton, luff!” shouted Captain Hull to the helmsman; “we will at any rate lose no time in getting alongside.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” answered the helmsman, and the “Pilgrim” in an instant was steered according to orders.

In spite, however, of the convictions of the captain and Dick, Cousin Benedict would not be moved from his opinion that the object of their curiosity was some huge cetacean.

“It is certainly dead, then,” remarked Mrs. Weldon; “it is perfectly motionless.”

“Oh, that’s because it is asleep,” said Benedict, who, although he would have willingly given up all the whales in the ocean for one rare specimen of an insect, yet could not surrender his own belief.

“Easy, Bolton, easy!” shouted the captain when they were getting nearer the floating mass; “don’t let us be running foul of the thing; no good could come from knocking a hole in our side; keep out from it a good cable’s length.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” replied the helmsman, in his usual cheery way; and by an easy turn of the helm the “Pilgrim’s” course was slightly modified so as to avoid all fear of collision.

The excitement of the sailors by this time had become more intense. Ever since the distance had been less than a mile all doubt had vanished, and it was certain that what was attracting their attention was the hull of a capsized ship. They knew well enough the established rule that a third of all salvage is the right of the finders, and they were filled with the hope that the hull they were nearing might contain an undamaged cargo, and be “a good haul,” to compensate them for their ill-success in the last season.

A quarter of an hour later and the “Pilgrim” was within half a mile of the deserted vessel, facing her starboard side. Water-logged to her bulwarks, she had heeled over so completely that it would have been next to impossible to stand upon her deck. Of her masts nothing was to be seen; a few ends of cordage were all that remained of her shrouds, and the try-sail chains were hanging all broken. On the starboard flank was an enormous hole.

“Something or other has run foul of her,” said Dick.

“No doubt of that,” replied the captain; “the only wonder is that she did not sink immediately.”

“Oh, how I hope the poor crew have been saved!” exclaimed Mrs Weldon.

“Most probably,” replied the captain, “they would all have taken to the boats. It is as likely as not that the ship which did the mischief would continue its course quite unconcerned”

“Surely, you cannot mean,” cried Mrs Weldon, “that any one could be capable of such inhumanity?”

“Only too probable,” answered Captain Hull, “unfortunately, such instances are very far from rare”

He scanned the drifting ship carefully and continued,—

“No, I cannot see any sign of boats here, I should guess that the crew have made an attempt to get to land, at such a distance as this, however, from America or from the islands of the Pacific I should be afraid that it must be hopeless.”

“Is it not possible,” asked Mrs Weldon, “that some poor creature may still survive on board, who can tell what has happened?”

“Hardly likely, madam; otherwise there would have been some sort of a signal in sight. But it is a matter about which we will make sure.”

The captain waved his hand a little in the direction in which he wished to go, and said quietly,—

“Luff, Bolton, luff a bit!”

The “Pilgrim” by this time was not much more than three cables’ lengths from the ship, there was still no token of her being otherwise than utterly deserted, when Dick Sands suddenly exclaimed,—

“Hark! if I am not much mistaken, that is a dog barking!”

Every one listened attentively; it was no fancy on Dick’s part, sure enough a stifled barking could be heard, as if some unfortunate dog had been imprisoned beneath the hatchways; but as the deck was not yet visible, it was impossible at present to determine the precise truth.

Mrs Weldon pleaded,—

“If it is only a dog, captain, let it be saved.”

“Oh, yes, yes, mamma, the dog must be saved!” cried

[Illustration: Negoro had approached without being noticed by any one]

little Jack; “I will go and get a bit of sugar ready for it.”

“A bit of sugar, my child, will not be much for a starved dog.”

“Then it shall have my soup, and I will do without,” said the boy, and he kept shouting, “Good dog! good dog!” until he persuaded himself that he heard the animal responding to his call.

The vessels were now scarcely three hundred feet apart; the barking was more and more distinct, and presently a great dog was seen clinging to the starboard netting. It barked more desperately than ever.

“Howick,” said Captain Hull, calling to the boatswain, “heave to, and lower the small boat.”

The sails were soon trimmed so as to bring the schooner to a standstill within half a cable’s length of the disabled craft, the boat was lowered, and the captain and Dick, with a couple of sailors, went on board. The dog kept up a continual yelping; it made the most vigourous efforts to retain its hold upon the netting, but perpetually slipped backwards and fell off again upon the inclining deck. It was soon manifest, however, that all the noise the creature was making was not directed exclusively towards those who were coming to its rescue, and Mrs. Weldon could not divest herself of the impression that there must be some survivors still on board. All at once the animal changed its gestures. Instead of the crouching attitude and supplicating whine with which it seemed to be imploring the compassion of those who were nearing it, it suddenly appeared to become bursting with violence and furious with rage.

“What ails the brute?” exclaimed Captain Hull.

But already the boat was on the farther side of the wrecked ship, and the captain was not in a position to see that Negoro the cook had just come on to the schooner’s deck, or that it was obvious that it was against him that the dog had broken out in such obstreperous fury. Negoro had approached without being noticed by any one; he made his way to the forecastle, whence, without a word or look of surprise, he gazed a moment at the dog, knitted his brow, and, silent and unobserved as he had come, retired to his kitchen.

As the boat had rounded the stern of the drifting hull, it had been observed that the one word “Waldeck” was painted on the aft-board, but that there was no intimation of the port to which the ship belonged. To Captain Hull’s experienced eye, however, certain details of construction gave a decided confirmation to the probability suggested by her name that she was of American build.

Of what had once been a fine brig of 500 tons burden this hopeless wreck was now all that remained. The large hole near the bows indicated the place where the disastrous shock had occurred, but as, in the heeling over, this aperture had been carried some five or six feet above the water, the vessel had escaped the immediate foundering which must otherwise have ensued; but still it wanted only the rising of a heavy swell to submerge the ship at any time in a few minutes.

It did not take many more strokes to bring the boat close to the larboard bulwark, which was half out of the water, and Captain Hull obtained a view of the whole length of the deck. It was clear from end to end. Both masts had been snapped off within two feet of their sockets, and had been swept away with shrouds, stays, and rigging. Not a single spar was to be seen floating anywhere within sight of the wreck, a circumstance from which it was to be inferred that several days at least had elapsed since the catastrophe.

Meantime the dog, sliding down from the taffrail, got to the centre hatchway, which was open. Here it continued to bark, alternately directing its eyes above deck and below.

“Look at that dog!” said Dick; “I begin to think there must be somebody on board.”

“If so,” answered the captain, “he must have died of hunger; the water of course has flooded the store-room.”

“No,” said Dick; “that dog wouldn’t look like that if there were nobody there alive.”

[Illustration: The dog began to swim slowly and with manifest weakness towards the boat.]

Taking the boat as close as was prudent to the wreck, the captain and Dick called and whistled repeatedly to the dog, which after a while let itself slip into the sea, and began to swim slowly and with manifest weakness towards the boat. As soon as it was lifted in, the animal, instead of devouring the piece of bread that was offered him, made its way to a bucket containing a few drops of fresh water, and began eagerly to lap them up.

“The poor wretch is dying of thirst!” said Dick.

It soon appeared that the dog was very far from being engrossed with its own interests. The boat was being pushed back a few yards in order to allow the captain to ascertain the most convenient place to get alongside the “Waldeck,” when the creature seized Dick by the jacket, and set up a howl that was almost human in its piteousness. It was evidently in a state of alarm that the boat was not going to return to the wreck. The dog’s meaning could not be misunderstood. The boat was accordingly brought against the larboard side of the vessel, and while the two sailors lashed her securely to the “Waldeck’s” cat-head, Captain Hull and Dick, with the dog persistently accompanying them, clambered, after some difficulty, to the open hatchway between the stumps of the masts, and made their way into the hold. It was half full of water, but perfectly destitute of cargo, its sole contents being the ballast sand which had slipped to larboard, and now served to keep the vessel on her side.

One glance was sufficient to convince the captain that there was no salvage to be effected.

“There is nothing here; nobody here,” he said.

“So I see,” said the apprentice, who had made his way to the extreme fore-part of the hold.

“Then we have only to go up again,” remarked the captain.

They ascended the ladder, but no sooner did they reappear upon the deck than the dog, barking irrepressibly, began trying manifestly to drag them towards the stern.

Yielding to what might be called the importunities of the dog, they followed him to the poop, and there, by the dim glimmer admitted by the sky-light, Captain Hull made out the forms of five bodies, motionless and apparently lifeless, stretched upon the floor.

One after another, Dick hastily examined them all, and emphatically declared it to be his opinion, that not one or them had actually ceased to breathe; whereupon the captain did not lose a minute in summoning the two sailors to his aid, and although it was far from an easy task, he succeeded in getting the five unconscious men, who were all negroes, conveyed safely to the boat.

The dog followed, apparently satisfied.

With all possible speed the boat made its way back again to the “Pilgrim,” a girt-line was lowered from the mainyard, and the unfortunate men were raised to the deck.

“Poor things!” said Mrs. Weldon, as she looked compassionately on the motionless forms.

“But they are not dead,” cried Dick eagerly; “they are not dead; we shall save them all yet!”

“What’s the matter with them?” asked Cousin Benedict, looking at them with utter bewilderment.

“We shall hear all about them soon, I dare say,” said the captain, smiling; “but first we will give them a few drops of rum in some water.”

Cousin Benedict smiled in return.

“Negoro!” shouted the captain.

At the sound of the name, the dog, who had hitherto been quite passive, growled fiercely, showed his teeth, and exhibited every sign of rage.

The cook did not answer.

“Negoro!” again the captain shouted, and the dog became yet more angry.

At this second summons Negoro slowly left his kitchen, but no sooner had he shown his face upon the deck than the animal made a rush at him, and would unquestionably have seized him by the throat if the man had not knocked him back with a poker which he had brought with him in his hand.

The infuriated beast was secured by the sailors, and prevented from inflicting any serious injury.

“Do you know this dog?” asked the captain.

“Know him? Not I! I have never set eyes on the brute in my life.”

“Strange!” muttered Dick to himself; “there is some mystery here. We shall see.” y9QsxK2CR0/vO9MeVhYZppEPogvYEZWIBZ8wSCzwIHEnNURk1sXKFLpGG0uk/ptw