“Nothing absurd whatever. You sight a big cave. There is something inside which you can’t make out. Why should not that cave be a pirates’ lair of the fine old, but almost extinct, type, capable of vomiting cut-throats at an instant’s notice, just as any volcanic cone of your island might heave up smoke and redden a league or so of land to the beach with lava?”
“Good. Fill your pipe. There is plenty of tobacco in this brig. I brought my ship to the wind and stopped her without touching a brace, that I might have her under instant command, and the boat, with my mate and four men, pulled to the island. While she was on the road we put ourselves into a posture of defense. I watched the boat approach the entrance to the lines of reef. She hung on her oars, warily advanced, halted, and again advanced; and then I lost sight of her. She was a long while gone—a long while to my impatience. She was gone in all about half an hour; and I was in the act of ordering one of the men to fire a musket as a signal of recall, when she appeared in that part of the natural harbor that was visible from the deck. The mate came over the side; his face was purple with heat and all a-twitch with astonishment.
“‘The most wonderful thing, sir!’ he cried.
“‘What is it?’ said I.
“‘There’s a ship of seven hundred tons at the very least, hard and fast in that big hole, everything standing but the topgallant masts, which look to me as if they’d been crushed away by the roof of the cave. Her jib boom is gone and the end of her bowsprit is about three fathoms distant inside from the entrance.’
“‘Anybody aboard?’ I asked.
“‘I heard and saw nothing, sir,’ said he.
“‘Did you sing out?’
“‘I sang out loudly. I hailed her five times. All hands of us hailed, and nothing but our own voices answered us.’
“‘How the deuce comes a ship of seven hundred tons burthen to be lying in that hole?’ said I.