"The fact is," said Joe, "this hasn't been the most successful cruise in the world. We've been out only about ten days, and now we're expecting to be taken home like shipwrecked sailors, with the loss of everything but our clothes."
"If we only get back safe, we needn't worry about anything," replied Tom. "Suppose no vessel comes to help us! The brig will sink some of these days, and I'm thinking that it won't be very long before she makes up her mind to try it."
"Then we can make a raft," said Charley, cheerfully, "and cruise on that until we are picked up. I am almost willing to promise you that we are taken off this brig sometime today. By-the-bye, did I tell you that I've found out what her name is?"
"How did you find it out?" asked Harry. "You know it is washed off the stern so that we couldn't make it out."
"Why," Charley replied, "I looked in the forecastle bell yesterday afternoon, and there it was, the Hirondelle, of Bordeaux. I forgot to tell you of it at the time. How she comes to be here with a load of timber is something I can't make out."
"There's a sail!" exclaimed Harry.
"Where?" cried Charley.
"'Way over on our starboard quarter. I can just see her."
Charley immediately ran aloft and looked anxiously at the distant stranger. He came down and reported that she was apparently a schooner, and seemed to be steering directly toward the brig.
"Do you think they see us?" asked Tom.