Some time after midnight, when David and Jonathan had gone through a purgatory of dread, not knowing what might happen to them any moment, the moon rose gradually from the horizon, shining faintly through a veil of clouds that almost obscured its light, and the morbid terror of the two boys was at once dispelled on their being able to perceive what it really was that had occasioned them such alarm.
“Goodness gracious me, Jonathan!” exclaimed David, with a tone of glad surprise in his voice, which at once aroused his friend, who was lying face downwards on the raft, with his head buried in his crossed arms. “Why, what do you think it is that has frightened us so? I’m blest if it isn’t that very identical boat that you saw in the afternoon passing by the Sea Rover! Isn’t it providential, old chap, that after all these hours we should come across it again? Thank God for it, Jonathan,” he added more earnestly a moment afterwards; “it may save both our lives in case the ship is unable to find us and pick us up!”
Yes, there it was, a long black boat, the cutter of some vessel, that had been washed away from the bows, as it was twenty feet long and more, floating keel uppermost, alongside the raft, although buried somewhat deep in the water.
The night had no longer any terrors for them; and, although they waited anxiously for the sun to rise to see whether the Sea Rover was still in sight—for the moon was frequently obscured by clouds, and its light too intermittent and deceptive for them to scan the ocean by—they did not dream of despairing now, even if their worst suspicions should be realised, and the ship have left them to their fate, as the boat offered them a tangible means of rescue, which the raft did not; albeit it had saved their lives for the while, and served as a “pis-aller.”
Morning came at last, first tinging the horizon to the eastwards with a pale sea-green hue, that deepened into a roseate tinge, and then merged into a vivid crimson flush, that spread and spread until the whole heavens reflected the glory of the orb of day, that rose in all its might from its bed in the waters, and moved with rapid strides towards the zenith, the crimson colour of the sky gradually fading away, as the bright yellow sunlight took its place, and illuminated the utmost verge of the apparently limitless sea; but the Sea Rover was nowhere in sight, nor was the tiniest speck of a distant sail to be seen on the horizon!
“Never mind, Jonathan,” said David, cheering up his companion; “you mustn’t be disappointed: it is only what I expected, although I didn’t tell you so before! Now that we have the boat, you know, we are not half so badly off as we thought ourselves at first. We’ve no reason to despair!”
And then, sailor-like, he immediately began to overhaul their God-sent gift, to see whether it was all a-tanto and seaworthy, without losing any more time in vain repinings, and scanning the ocean fruitlessly for the Sea Rover; Jonathan sitting up, and beginning to be interested, as he regained his courage and self-reliance, through his companion’s words and the warmth of the sun combined, and lost that feeling of hopeless despair that seemed to overwhelm him and weigh him down since they lost sight of the ship for the last time on the previous night.
“It must have been adrift a good while,” said David, clambering on to the keel of the boat, and getting astride on it. “The bottom is quite slimy. Oh, my poor leg, how it hurts! I forgot all about that squeeze I had between the rudder beam and the wheelhouse, for a moment. Never mind,” continued the brave boy, hiding his pain from his companion, who winced in sympathy; “it was only a little wrench I gave it, and it has passed off now. But pray hold on tight to the stern, Jonathan—you can catch hold of it by the rudder-hinge—or else I’ll be parting company, and going off on a cruise by myself.”
Working himself along with his hands and knees on the slippery surface of the boat, he felt the exposed portion all over, and as far under water as his arm could reach down, when he proceeded to give his opinion like a consulting surveyor.
“The timbers are all sound, old chap,” he said, “at least, as well as I can make out; and not a hole anywhere that I can see. I can’t tell for certain, however, till we right her properly, and get the water out of her; and I think we’ll find our work cut out for us to do that, Jonathan, my boy.”