“That’s so, Capting,” answered Phil, as, having got the boat about, he belayed the sheets and put the other hand to the helm; “he’s a clever animal, he is. It seems to me that ar dog understands talk like a Christian. Did you take notice h-e-ow he was overboard as quick as you spoke, afore I started a shut? But whar are we going?—that’s what I want to know.”
“Phil,” interrupted Mr Clare, “what light is that flaring up away ahead there on your lee bow?”
“By God, I see! the sails hid that—they did,” Phil grumbled, and bent down to see beneath the sails. He chuckled some time before he answered, and his chuckle grew to a laugh. “Ha! ha! ha!—that ar light is on Boatswain’s Reef, just as sure as my name is Phil Grayson. Mr Clare—hurrah!—your boys are safe.”
Ugly, who had been lifted on board before that, joined his rejoicing bark to the skipper’s merriment, and from the reef came a distant hallooing.
The flames at the reef grew brighter and higher. The sparks flashed and flew up to the dark sky. The shouting increased to yells. The rescuers on the schooner answered; and as for Ugly, the hero of our deliverance, he was almost frantic with delight.
The first words that were distinguishable from the reef were—
“Is that you, Mr Clare? Have you any water on board?”
“Yes!” was responded.
“Oh! do hurry, then—we can’t stand this any longer!” cried out Harry.
In two hours more as happy a boatload as ever floated was springing before a fresh breeze toward the cape. Long before we touched shore our glad halloos had reached the old house, and lifted a heavy weight from the hearts of Clump and Juno.