But the plane-cloth used by Stephen Kane was wonderfully strong and had been sized with a composition that prevented the wind from penetrating it. Therefore it resisted the gale nobly, and after a time the fears of the two girls subsided to such a degree that they dozed at times and toward morning, when the wind subsided, sank into deep sleep. The hooting of the owls no longer had power to keep them awake, and on this night the owls were less in evidence than usual, perhaps deterred from leaving their nests by the storm.
Weather changes are abrupt in the semi-tropics. The morning dawned cool and delightful and the sun shone brilliantly. There was a slight breeze remaining, but not more than enough to flutter Orissa's locks as she unfastened the flap of the tent and walked out upon the bluff to discover if the Aircraft was still safe.
It lay at the bottom of the ravine, in plain sight from where she stood, and seemed quite undisturbed. Orissa turned her eyes toward the distant island, let them sweep the tumbling waves of the ocean and finally allowed them to rest upon the bay at the east, where they had first landed. Then she uttered an involuntary cry that echoed shrilly among the crags.
A ship lay stranded upon the shelving beach—fully half its length upon dry land!
The cry aroused Sybil, who came running from the tent rubbing her eyes and with an anxious face.
"What's up, Ris?" she demanded.
Orissa pointed a trembling finger across the rock-strewn plain to the bay, and Sybil looked and gave a gasp of delight.
"Oh, Orissa, we're saved—we're saved!" she murmured. Then, sinking upon the sand, she covered her face with her hands and began to cry.
But the air-maid was too interested to weep; she was looking hard at the boat.
"Isn't it Madeline Dentry's yacht?" she asked. "Yes; I'm sure it is. Then they've been searching for us and the storm has wrecked them. Sybil, your father and Steve may be on that ship, alive or—or——"