In the midst of the excitement Hockley appeared. He saw that this was no “fake” sinking, and his face was pale with terror as he clung first to Sam and then to Darry.
“It’s awful!” he wailed. “What shall we do? Where are the life preservers? Where is the professor? Why don’t he order out a boat to save us? How far do you suppose we are from land? Oh, I know I can’t swim in such a sea!” And he shook like a leaf.
“We are not going down yet, Jake,” answered Sam. “The professor is looking for Mark and Frank. I’m afraid they’ve been washed overboard.”
“There is a signal of distress!” interrupted Darry, pointing out through the darkness. A rocket had flared through the air, and now another followed. Then a strong Bengal light lit up the scene.
“I’m going out to look for Frank and Mark,” said Darry, recklessly, and left the cabin. Sam came close behind him. Hockley did not wish to go, but to remain alone seemed even worse and he also followed, but more slowly.
The Vendee had been backed and was now coming up alongside of the ship with which it had been in collision. The strong Bengal light showed her to be a three masted schooner, piled high with lumber. A good part of the lumber on the forward deck had been unshipped by the collision and was floating in the angry sea.
“Do you see anything of Mark and Frank?” asked Sam, hoarsely, as he and Darry slipped up beside the professor.
“Not a sign,” was the sad answer. “If they were washed overboard I fear they were drowned.”
“Oh, don’t say that!” gasped Darry. “Drowned! It’s horrible!”
“Can’t they put out a small boat?” asked Sam.