On Mervyn’s left sat Wilson, his eyes aglow with delight at being once more aboard his beloved vessel. Judging that the wolf-men were not likely to make another attack for some time, the lad had decided to let the Seal take care of herself for a time, merely locking the turret door as a precaution.
So the glasses clinked merrily, and the saloon rang with subdued laughter as the meal went on.
Towards the end, Mervyn rose.
“Gentlemen,” he began, “we shall all be truly sorry to leave the vessel that has served us so well and faithfully. She has become to us as a dear friend; yet to effect our escape from this underworld, it will be necessary for us to desert her. We shall have to remain aboard awhile, until Haverly is sufficiently recovered to undertake the journey to the crater; then we must say good-bye to the Seal.”
“We must sink her before we start inland,” said Seymour. “I should not like to think of the old craft being in the hands of the wolf-men. How long do you think it will be before Silas is anything like himself again?”
“I cannot tell,” returned the scientist, huskily. “He has had a very narrow escape from death, but I do not doubt that his splendid constitution will enable him to get about ere long. I shall be eternally in his debt: but for his heroic sacrifice, I should have fallen victim to Nordhu’s murderous hate.”
“I have a toast to propose,” he continued, after a few moments’ silence, filling his glass as he spoke, “To our American friend: may he speedily be restored to his usual health!”
While they drank to this, there came a scampering of feet upon the deck overhead, succeeded by a chorus of barks. The hounds, returned from the chase of the savages, had swum out to the vessel, and were clamouring for admittance at the turret door.