The wind still blew high, but it was evidently dying down.
But where was the brig Resolute? Was she gone again, or had it all been a dream?
CHAPTER XXVIII.
COULD HE BE——DEAD?
Gone the Resolute most assuredly was. Hardly a timber of the old craft was left together, only a portion of the hull and some dark skeleton ribs pointing skywards through the white chaos of surf that boiled and swirled around them.
And the beach on both sides was strewed with wreckage.
"Frank," said Fred that same morning:
"I had a dream, a happy dream,
I dreamt that I was free;
That in a boat that we had built
We sailed across the sea."
"Bravo!" cried Frank, "I didn't know you were a born poet. Pass the sardines and the pickles, like a good boy. Fancy eating sardines in this world again. But, I say, you know, touching that dream, it is a real jolly one, and as soon as I've time I'll think it out Why shouldn't we, now that we have tools, commence to build a ship?"
"I don't see why we shouldn't really. But mind you it isn't quite such a simple business as you may imagine. She would require to be a biggish boat, you know, and there are two difficulties to be thought out at the very commencement.