“Ready about!” shouted the mate. “Tacks and sheets!”
The vessel’s course was now altered and though she yawed about in a disagreeable and even alarming manner, she made fair progress down towards the derelict vessel.
Captain D’Acre laid her right alongside and grappled, or secured, the two vessels together.
Then the captain, with Sandie and Willie, scrambled on to the deck of the forsaken ship.
Their feelings as they did so may be better imagined than described. Curiosity, perhaps, was upper-most in their minds, but it was a curiosity mixed with awe.
What was the mystery? they wondered. Ah! the sea hath many mysteries, and here was one of them, yet it seemed one that was not inexplicable, not impossible to ravel.
The deck was hampered with a litter of wreck, fallen spars and rigging. There were no boats to be seen. It seemed evident that the ship had been taken aback or struck by a sudden squall, and that, believing she was sinking, a panic had seized upon the crew and they had left in the boats. There was every appearance of a hasty exodus, for stores lay about the deck where they had fallen, tinned meats, and even bottled beer.
But there was now no living thing on board.
Yes, there was though; for while they were yet gazing around them in surprise and wonder, a beautiful young tom-cat made his appearance, a red tabby he was, and commenced singing aloud as he rubbed himself against Sandie’s leg.
Sandie took the poor puss up in his arms, smoothed it and spoke kindly to it.