Suddenly, the sounds of footsteps on the deck of the wreck reached their ears.
"Somebody is coming!" said Jack, and looked up the companion way. "Why, it's Old Ben!"
He was right; it was Ben the fisherman who had put in an appearance, market basket in hand.
"Marion! Jack! Am dat yo'?" came in an anxious voice.
"Yes, Ben!" cried both.
"What brought you?" continued the boy.
"I dun thought yo' was a-wantin' ob Ole Ben," grinned the colored man. "I seed yo' rowin' off an' I didn't see yo' cum back, so I says to myself, 'Da is stuck fast on de wreck.' An' den I says, 'Da aint got nuffin to eat.' So ober I comes, an' wid a basketful of good t'ings from de plantation." And he held up the market basket. He was soaked from the rain, and the water ran from his clothing in a stream.
"Ben, you are a jewel!" burst out Marion and patted his wet coat-sleeve affectionately.
At this the old negro grinned broadly. He had always been a privileged character on the Ruthven plantation, and being set free had not ended his affection for his former mistress and her children.
"It was very kind to come over," said Jack. "Does mother know we are here?"