The Dolphin had struck something.
This was certain. But fortunately no breakage or puncture of the hull had occurred, so there was no danger of death by drowning like rats in a trap.
The Dolphin was motionless in her position.
Barney pulled himself out of a corner. Pomp crawled out of a heap of furniture, and Stanhope emerged from a closet into which he had crashed.
Nobody was hurt, but there were bruises and scratches galore.
However, no one but was anxious to know the cause of the catastrophe.
Accordingly all rushed into the pilot-house where Frank was focusing the searchlight. This revealed the true state of affairs at once.
The obstruction into which the Dolphin had crashed was nothing more nor less than the sunken frame of a decayed vessel, half buried in the sands.
The nose of the Dolphin had become so firmly wedged in the timbers that it was held fast.
“Begorra, it’s stuck fast we are!” cried Barney, rubbing a bruised shin. “Shure, Misther Frank, we’ll niver pull out av that!”