"There's a steamer in trouble outside. Name sounded like Barona. Her engine's disabled and she's drifting. Can't be very far off!"
The boys felt sober.
"It's a hard night for a craft without steerage-way," said Jim. "What's that? Thunder?"
A long, low rumble made itself heard above the storm. It came again, and yet again. The gloom was lighted for a second by a sudden blaze.
"What's that!" exclaimed Jim once more.
Between the thunder-peals his ears had caught a single whip-like crack. A stunning crash followed a lurid glare, lighting up sky and sea. Again came the sharp detonation, but little louder than a fire-cracker. This time all heard it.
"A signal-gun!"
Lane's voice was full of excitement. He sprang to the door and the others followed. The gale was blowing squarely against the end of the cabin. So great was its force that Roger had all he could do to push the door open. Presently the five stood outside, exposed to the full fury of the blast. For a few seconds all was black.
"Look! A rocket!"
Up from the pitchy sea southwest of Brimstone shot a line of fire, curving into an arc and bursting aloft in a shower of many-colored balls. At its base were dimly visible two slender masts and a white hull. Almost instantly they vanished; but the boys had seen enough.