Returning to the ship sail was made again, and they went round to the north-west so as to prove that this was the reef by finding the opening which led into Crater Bay.
Sure enough the opening was found, and the boat once more lowered to investigate and find that the coral-reef still spread out like a barrier, but the coral insects were dead, and as they investigated farther it was to find that there was not a single shell-fish of any kind living in the shoal water, nor any trace of life, but on the highest part of the bleached white coral there were a few blocks of blackish-grey vesicular or cindery-looking stone.
“Gone?” said Mark, as he sat in the boat, “you think it’s gone?” and he looked down with a feeling of awe.
“Yes,” said the captain; “gone as rapidly as no doubt it once rose from the sea.”
“But where was Crater Bay?”
“Here where you are seated,” said the captain. “Shall we try the depth?”
“No,” said Mark with a slight shiver; “it seems too awful. But do you really feel sure, father, that our wonderfully beautiful island has sunk down here?”
“I have no doubt of it, my boy,” replied the captain. “The eruption was awful, and the island was literally blown up, and its fragments sank beneath the waves. What do you say, Gregory?”
“That’s it,” said the mate.
“And all those lovely palms and ferns, Mark,” said Morgan, laying his hand upon Mark’s arm.