“You seem to know all about her,” said he, slowly; “and how you larned all that beats me.”
“Why, that’s the very ship that we got wrecked on, too,” said Arthur.
“Yes,” said Tom; “we were sailing about, and found her adrift, and all as comfortable as possible.”
“We tried to be salvors,” said Arthur; “and we were left on board to take care of her while our captain went off in the schooner for help.”
“And he anchored her, and the anchor didn’t hold,” said Tom.
“And we drifted all about the gulf,” continued Arthur, “and were out in the most horrible gales that ever were, till finally we got ashore here.” The boys poured out this information in the most rapid manner possible upon the astounded Bailey, who now seemed fairly struck dumb.
“You—in the Petrel!” he exclaimed, at length, in slow and perplexed tones. “You—you adrift in that water-logged craft! and thrown by that there ship here on Anticosti!”
“Yes,” said Arthur, briskly, “that’s just it.” Bailey raised his hand slowly to his head, and scratched it solemnly, raising his eyes at the same time, and fixing them upon empty space.
“These here two young coves in the Petrel! and hev ashore on Anticosti!” he murmured.
“Yes, yes,” said Arthur; “and now tell us all about how you got here.”