Adam, leading the party, hurried below.
The water was already up to the cabin deck, and the violent rocking of the ship told them that it would be dangerous to spend much time in the search. No one was to be found.
“Let us have the skylight off, Tom, to see our way,” said Ben.
Tom sprang on deck and soon forced it off, and the pale morning light streamed down below. Everything in the main cabin was in confusion.
“This shows that the people must have got away in the boats, and have carried off whatever they could lay hands on, unless some one else has visited the wreck since then,” remarked Adam; and he then told Ben of his having observed the lugger in the neighbourhood of the wreck.
“She looks to me like a foreign-built ship, although her fittings below are in the English fashion,” he observed, examining the cabins as far as the dim twilight which made its way through the open hatch would allow.
“As we came under her stern I saw no name on it; I cannot make out what she can be.”
The lockers in the captain’s state cabin were open, and none of his instruments were to be seen. Two or three of the other side cabins had apparently been searched in a hurry for valuables. The doors of the aftermost ones were however still closed. The violent heaving and the crashing sounds which reached their ears, showing how much the ship was suffering from the rude blows of the seas, made Adam unwilling to prolong the search. He and his companions secured such articles as appeared most worth saving.
“Let us look into the cabin before we go,” exclaimed Ben, opening the door of one which seemed the largest. As he did so a cry was heard, and a child’s voice asked, “Who’s there?” He and Adam sprang in.