The captain came on deck, in hope of running through the most dangerous portion of the coral-obstructed waterway before dark. Every inch of canvas was immediately set, and to assist the lookout at the bow Jack Clewlin was sent to the masthead.
Until then he had had little experience of coral reefs, but would now speedily find himself well-nigh beset by them. Yet in point of danger those awash, and consequently visible, were as nothing in comparison with others hidden a few feet beneath the surface, and steadily pushed upward by their minute builders.
He had just made himself comfortable on the fore topgallant-yard, when, far ahead and slightly off the port bow, a small black object, with the faint but curious tracery of what looked like the masts and rigging of a vessel, appeared.
As no canvas could be seen, Jack naturally concluded that she was at anchor, and he immediately reported the discovery.
'Ay, ay,' Mr. Statten sang out. 'How far off?'
'About ten miles, sir,' Jack replied.
The officer was soon beside him in the crosstrees, and through his glasses peered at the stranger. Then he began to laugh.
'Oh yes, she's "anchored," sure enough, and likely to remain there a spell,' he said. 'It's the big German, Clewlin, hard and fast on a reef. She has evidently been trying to make a fast passage, and come to grief in the dark.'
'Is there anyone on board, sir?'
'I cannot tell just yet. Anyhow, her colours are at the gaff-end, but she lies very badly.'