“If it is, it may be some other ship that has come to their rescue,” suggested Jack.
Mr. Brown gave orders to the men to give way with increased power. The breeze had dropped and the use of the oars was once more necessary.
“Should it be a steamer’s smoke, she may have rescued them,” observed the officer; “if not, it may be the burning craft still floating.”
“Lay into it, bullies,” he added a moment later. “Let her have it! That’s the stuff!”
Jack’s excitement ran high. Putting aside the adventurous nature of their errand, the owner of the Titan Line from whom he had parted under such unpleasant circumstances in the Greenwich Hospital, was aboard, and his friend,—for so he called him, despite their brief acquaintance,—Tom Jukes, might be there, too.
“My! Won’t they open their eyes when they see who it is has come to their rescue!” he thought to himself. “Come to think of it, I must have been as rattled as the operator of the Halcyon or I’d have given the name of the ship.”
The smudge of smoke grew as they rowed and sailed toward it, till, from a mere discoloration of the blue horizon, it grew to be a flaring pillar of smoke.
“No ship ever burned coal at that rate,” decided Mr. Brown. “Yonder’s the blaze, men, and the old hooker is still on top, although it surprises me that she hasn’t gone down long ago.”
While they all gazed, suspending their rowing for a moment in the fascination of the spectacle, Jack uttered a shout:
“Look!” he cried, “look!”