"I don't like these lulls," said Captain Roy to the hermit, as they stood close to the binnacle, in the feeble light of its lamp. "What is that striking against our sides, Mr. Moor?"
"Looks like floating pumice, sir," answered the second mate, "and I think I see palm-trees amongst it."
"Ay, I thought so, we must be close to land," said the captain. "We can't be far from Anjer, and I fear the big waves that have already passed us have done some damage. Lower a lantern over the side,—no, fetch an empty tar-barrel and let's have a flare. That will enable us to see things better."
While the barrel was being fastened to a spar so as to be thrust well out beyond the side of the brig, Van der Kemp descended the companion and opened the cabin door.
"Come up now, Winnie, darling."
"Yes, father," was the reply, as the poor girl, who had been anxiously awaiting the summons, glided out and clasped her father's arm with both hands. "Are things quieting down?"
"They are, a little. It may be temporary, but—Our Father directs it all."
"True, father. I'm so glad of that!"
"Mind the step, we shall have more light on deck. There is a friend there who has just told me he met you on the Cocos-Keeling Island, Nigel Roy;—you start, Winnie?"
"Y—yes, father. I am so surprised, for it is his father who sails this ship! And I cannot imagine how he or you came on board."