The ocean depths would offer just as easy a resting place to a nameless waif as to a crowned monarch.
When the great waves broke over the drifting vessel the rush of water must have swept him away, only that he had been wise enough to lash himself to the stump of the mizzen-mast.
During a little lull in the tempest someone joined him, also using the whipping rope-ends to secure his hold.
Darry saw by the aid of the darting lightning that it was his good friend, the captain; and with his thoughts still taken up with the peril of his situation he repeated the question that only the mocking winds had heard before:
"Will we ever weather this storm, captain?"
"I fear not, my lad," replied the master of the ship, sadly, "the poor old hulk is now only a plaything for the elements. It looks as though the Falcon had reached the end of her voyaging at last. Twenty years have I commanded her. I have a feeling that if so be she goes down I will not survive her."
The roar of the gale was such that it became necessary to shout at times, in order to make one's self heard above the elements.
"Are we near the coast?" asked the boy, anxiously; for he knew that such a thing must double their danger.
"I am afraid it is only too true, though the storm has been so prolonged that I have long ago lost my reckoning," replied the mariner.
"But you told me these coasts are patrolled by brave life savers, who always stand ready to risk everything in case a vessel is driven on the reefs?" continued the boy, trying to see a gleam of hope through the gloom.