"You believe in the immortality of the soul, mate?"
"Surely; and you?"
Rough-and-Ready made no reply.
"'Tis often difficult to believe in what we don't understand. On such a night as this--bleak, dreary, awfully solemn--with death waiting for us within a few yards perhaps--it is difficult to believe that there are spots on the earth where the sun is shining and where the flowers are blooming."
"That's true, mate; you speak more like a scholar than a sailor. Shake hands."
"I learned a great deal from the friend of whom I have spoken," said Joshua, grasping Rough-and-Ready's hand. "What is that ahead of us?"
A dark cloud. Impossible to see whether it belonged to earth, or air, or water. A moment after he uttered the words, the man who was keeping the look-out cried that there was land ahead. Joshua hastily gave some orders, and was making his way to the saloon to arouse the captain, when he was almost thrown off his legs by a terrible shock. Involuntarily he threw his arms around Minnie, who was clinging to the rope. She held him fast for a moment, and he cried,--
"Who is this?"
"It is me," she said; "cling to me."
"Don't stir," he whispered rapidly, filled with a wild amazement at the familiar tones of Minnie's voice; "if it were not that I know I am not dreaming, I could believe a spirit spoke, and not a woman. But keep you here; do not move for your life."