"Survivors of the schooner Spitfire," said a voice which I recognized as that belonging to Lowell. "Will you take us aboard?"
"Yes. Lay to under our bow."
The yacht stopped moving, and a moment later the jolly-boat came alongside, and Captain Hannock, Lowell, Crocker, and the sailors stepped aboard.
"Who are you?" asked Captain Flagg of Captain Hannock; and I noticed that Mr. Henshaw had laid aside his navy-blue suit and badge, and was standing by apparently as an ordinary passenger.
Captain Hannock told him, and also introduced the rest.
"My schooner, the Spitfire, bound for Liverpool, took fire and sank," he continued. "We just had time to get out the jolly-boat and get a cask of water and some few things to eat when she went down."
"Indeed!" replied Captain Flagg. "How did she catch fire?"
"I can't imagine, excepting that it was set afire by a hand on board who changed his mind about going and wanted me to let him land before we started."
This was certainly cool, to say the least. Of course Captain Hannock meant me. Mr. Ranson pinched my arm.
"Where is that man?" asked Mr. Henshaw.