“Can’t make its reckoning; must be some small island off the Admiralty Group,” said the mate in a hollow voice, as he leaned over Bilbao’s arm and stared at the chart. Half-an-hour after that all hands stood by the anchor, for the Sea Foam was plunging dead on for the mighty burst of spray that rose high over the barrier reefs. Then they once more stared in surprise, for quite visible to the naked eye lay the wreck of a ship, a steamer, on the reefs, over which the thundering seas were still breaking. It was easy enough to see that she wasn’t lying calmly at anchor, because of the great white-ridged line of curling breakers that rose and went right over her listed decks.
“It’s some tramp steamer run ashore,” said the mate in a hollow, sepulchral voice; “a Dutch or a German boat, I think,” he added, as he looked through the telescope.
An hour after Bilbao shouted: “Stand by! Let go!” and in a few moments the Sea Foam swung safely at anchor in a few fathoms of water to the north-west of the strange isle.
Hillary looked mournful enough as he thought of the delay.
“Don’t you worry, it’s all right; besides, there’s sure to be a dead calm after that blow last night, and we may just as well lie here as anywhere else, eh?” said Bilbao as he rubbed his hands with delight. For his all-embracing mind had already conjured up visions of that wreck being possibly crammed up to the hatches with chests full of gold and a valuable cargo of pearls. All day long the Sea Foam lay off the island, as Ulysses stared through his telescope to see if he could discover signs of life on the derelict, or on the island. He wasn’t taking any risks by going ashore, or going on that wreck before he was quite certain that no one was about. He knew it was quite possible that the original skipper of the Sea Foam had been released from the calaboose by the German consulate, and that he and the missing Sea Foam were already being followed up by the skipper in another hired schooner.
The sallow mate clutched Ulysses’s arm and nearly dropped with fear as he too looked through the telescope. Then he wailed: “You know, Captain Bilbao, they might be after us and would just as likely be there on that island in wait, knowing what you are.”
Ulysses only responded by shouting the irrelevant lines of some sea-chantey. Then he said, as he stared once more through the glass: “Must have all gone away in the ship’s boats. There’s no one aboard that wreck, I’ll swear.” His eyes brightened over his prospects.
Then he smacked Hillary on the back and shouted: “Don’t be downhearted! I’m damned if we haven’t anchored off a treasure-trove wreck! You and yer pretty Gabrielle will be able to keep one of the finest seraglios in the South Seas if all goes well.”
Hillary couldn’t help smiling at the big man’s levity as he too looked towards the derelict and watched the grandly picturesque sight of the curling breakers beating against the hulk.
Every now and again, as dawn stole over the seas, they could hear the long, low swelling roar and thunder as a big swell collided with the far-off barrier reefs.