These momentary glimpses of other craft gave them some hope, for it showed them that they were not entirely out of the track of shipping.
That night Brandon hung the lanterns out again, and according to arrangement with Milly, remained on deck to watch. She was to watch days, and he at night, and he fulfilled his lonely vigil faithfully.
But not a vessel appeared to gladden his lonely eyes.
Milly rose early on that third day and prepared breakfast, after eating which Brandon went to bed. The sky remained beautifully clear, and they had nothing to fear from the elements, for the glass forecasted a continued spell of fine weather.
Milly took up her position with the long spy glass on the deck, and swept the horizon for some sign of rescue. Occasionally she went down to look in on Swivel, and about noon to prepare the dinner.
When the meal was nearly ready the young girl ran up the companionway stairs again for a final look before she summoned Brandon from his stateroom. As she put the glass to her eye and gazed toward the west a cry of surprise and joy burst from her lips.
Approaching the derelict brig, with a great expanse of canvas spread to the fresh breeze, was a small schooner, the water dashing white and frothy from her bows!
“Saved! saved!” gasped the girl. “Oh, thank God!”
While she had been below the vessel had come in sight, and was now less than half a mile from the wreck.
What seemed strange, however, was that the schooner was laying a course directly for the brig as though it was her intention to board her.