Every glass on board was continually kept turned towards the object ahead. As the schooner approached, however, no one could be discovered on board. It was nearly dark by the time she got up with it. Several voices on board the schooner hailed, but no reply came. She hove to, and a boat was lowered. Jack, Terence, and Higson jumped into her.
“Hand a lantern here,” cried Higson, as they were shoving off. They were quickly alongside the hapless craft. It was then seen that she had been capsized with her sails set, which, with the mast and rigging, assisted to keep her in her present position. Probably also her ballast having shifted contributed to do so, as she was only partially filled with water. Not a human being, however, was visible. Higson, seizing the lantern, leaped on board, and climbed up to the companion hatch. Jack and Adair were about to follow, but they, observing that even his weight made the water flow over the bulwarks, saw that it would be more prudent to let him search alone. They waited for him anxiously. He quickly put his head up the hatchway.
“She’s the Snapper—no doubt about that; but there’s not a soul aft,” he exclaimed. “At all events, however, they were not starved, for there are plenty of provisions in the locker.”
Having let himself down into the hold, holding on to the coaming with one hand, he stretched out the other with the lantern, so as to let its light fall on every side. No one was there. He then made his way into the fore-peak. It seemed to Jack that he was a long time absent, though in reality scarcely a minute passed before he scrambled out again.
“What has become of the youngsters I can’t say, but on board this craft they are not; nor is their monkey Spider, who with his long tail to hold on by was not likely to be washed overboard,” he exclaimed, as he sprang back into the boat. “The sooner we shove off the better, for she is filling fast, and may go to the bottom at any moment.”
“I can’t bear to leave her though without having a look round,” said Jack, taking the lantern from Higson.
He made his way into the little cabin, and was soon convinced that Higson was right. Not a trace of the midshipmen could he see. He searched the hold and the fore-peak. They were not there, dead or alive. Jack came back to the boat and sat down, feeling very sorrowful.
“Let me go in again,” said the old mate, as he took the lantern.
He was back very soon with three small carpet-bags in his hand.
“Be sharp,” cried Adair. “She is going down!”