But he was not left long in doubt. There came distinctly to his ear the familiar sound of an anchor being let go, and the rush of a chain-cable through a hawse-hole, followed by the blowing-off of steam!
A sudden revulsion of thought from despair to keenest joy—a gush of prayer and gratitude to God filled his heart, and a shout escaped his lips—help, succour, escape, were all at hand, and already—already!
Forgetful, oblivious of what savages might be near or might see him, he started to an eminence close by, and saw in the bay, the very place occupied but yesterday morning—a time that seemed ages upon ages ago—by the Amethyst, a stately steam corvette, riding at anchor, and all her snow-white canvas being handed with man-o'-war celerity.
She had no ensign flying, but to Derval's experienced eye, it was evident that she was a British ship. If any of the natives saw her, as there was every reason to suppose they did, the terrible lesson taught them by the guns and small-arms of the Amethyst, made them conceal themselves, for nothing was seen of them when Derval rushed to the beach, and, without attempting to make a signal or waiting for a boat, and heedless or unthinking of whether there might be sharks in the water, plunged into the waves that rippled on the rocks, and swam off at once, through the debris of battered canoes and dead bodies that were still floating about.
"Man overboard—a rope—a rope—stand by!" he heard voices shouting as he cleft the water and neared her fast, for he was a powerful and skilful swimmer, and after a few minutes he found himself, panting, breathless, and faint with excitement, past anxiety and present joy, safe upon the deck of the ship-of-war, where he was of course, supposed by all to be a ship-wrecked man—the last survivor of some unfortunate crew—and found himself overwhelmed with questions.
But none of these could he answer with coherence, until he was taken into the cabin of the captain, who at once ordered him wine and other refreshments. He then told his story, which elicited considerable commiseration, and much more indignation at the foul treachery of which his messmate had been guilty.
He now found that he was on board H.M. corvette Holyrood, of 16 guns, an iron ship, cased with wood, of 5,000 horse-power, commanded by Captain —— who came into these seas with orders to look after any survivors of wrecks, and who had been last at the Crozet Islands, that wild and mountainous group which lies in south latitude 47 and east longitude 46, and the peaks of which, high as Ben Nevis, are covered with eternal snow. He had visited Turtle Island for the same purpose, and meant now to haul up for England, viâ the Cape, St. Helena, and Ascension.
But for the circumstance of this ship's fortuitous visit, it is not difficult to speculate upon what must eventually have been the awful fate of Derval Hampton!
The latter now found himself recognised by the third lieutenant of the Holyrood, who had belonged to the President training ship, and astonished the rescued man by accosting him by name, and they shook hands quite as old friends.
Finding that Derval was a gentleman by education and bearing, and an officer of the Royal Naval Reserve, whose name as such was in the Navy List, the officers of the gun-room at once requested that he would mess with them during the passage home, or till he made some other arrangement.