“Very well,” said Marsovino.
Pinocchio threw himself on the sand, and in a few minutes both friends were asleep.
The next morning, bright and early, they were again ready to start. The dolphin, who knew now where he was, began to rise to the surface. A few hours later he had reached the place Tursio had spoken about.
“Here we are at last!” he cried.
“Here? Why, where is the ship?”
“There,” answered Marsovino, pointing to a great black mass which showed through the water.
“That! Why look how it is trimmed!” And he was indeed right. The inhabitants of the sea had taken possession of everything. The keel of the ship was overgrown with beautiful slender seaweeds. The decks were covered with sponges. The stairs had disappeared under the work of polyps.
On the lookout bridge hundreds of anemones raised their brightly colored corollas. The needles of sea urchins threatened passers-by from the portholes. Silvery fishes and starfishes were seen all over. Everything was living on the dead ship.
“Now let us hasten,” said Marsovino.