'Four weeks more, Mrs Hardy, and we'll give you a cup of tea such asyou never had before,' said second mate Hoffmann, as he paused besidetwo ladies sitting in a sheltered corner of the deck.

 

　　'I shall be glad to get it, and still gladder to put my feet on solidground,' answered the elder lady, smiling; for our friend Emil was afavourite, as well he might be, since he devoted himself to thecaptain's wife and daughter, who were the only passengers on board.

 

　　'So shall I, even if I have to wear a pair of shoes like Chinesejunks. I've tramped up and down the deck so much, I shall bebarefooted if we don't arrive soon,' laughed Mary, the daughter,showing two shabby little boots as she glanced up at the companion ofthese tramps, remembering gratefully how pleasant he had made them.

 

　　'Don't think there are any small enough in China,' answered Emil,with a sailor's ready gallantry, privately resolving to hunt up thehandsomest shoes he could find the moment he landed.

 

　　'I don't know what you would have done for exercise, dear, if MrHoffmann had not made you walk every day. This lazy life is bad foryoung people, though it suits an old body like me well enough in calmweather. Is this likely to be a gale, think ye?' added Mrs Hardy,with an anxious glance at the west, where the sun was setting redly.

 

　　'Only a capful of wind, ma'am, just enough to send us along lively,'

 

　　answered Emil, with a comprehensive glance aloft and alow.

 

　　'Please sing, Mr Hoffmann, it's so pleasant to have music at thistime. We shall miss it very much when we get ashore,' said Mary, in apersuasive tone which would have won melody from a shark, if such athing were possible.

 

　　Emil had often blessed his one accomplishment during these months,for it cheered the long days, and made the twilight hour his happiesttime, wind and weather permitting. So now he gladly tuned his pipe,and leaning on the taffrail near the girl, watched the brown locksblowing in the wind as he sang her favourite song:

 

　　'Give me freshening breeze, my boys,A white and swelling sail,A ship that cuts the dashing waves,And weathers every gale.

 

　　What life is like a sailor's life,So free, so bold, so brave?

 

　　His home the ocean's wide expanse,A coral bed his grave.'

 

　　Just as the last notes of the clear, strong voice died away, MrsHardy suddenly exclaimed: 'What's that?' Emil's quick eye saw at oncethe little puff of smoke coming up a hatchway where no smoke shouldbe, and his heart seemed to stand still for an instant as the dreadword 'Fire!' flashed through his mind. Then he was quite steady, andstrolled away saying quietly:

 

　　'Smoking not allowed there, I'll go and stop it.' But the instant hewas out of sight his face changed, and he leaped down the hatchway,thinking, with a queer smile on his lips: 'If we are afire, shouldn'twonder if I did make a coral bed my grave!'

 

　　He was gone a few minutes, and when he came up, half stifled withsmoke, he was as white as a very brown man could be, but calm andcool as he went to report to the captain.

 

　　'Fire in the hold, sir.'

 

　　'Don't frighten the women,' was Captain Hardy's first order; thenboth be stirred themselves to discover how strong the treacherousenemy was, and to rout it if possible.

 

　　The Brenda's cargo was a very combustible one, and in spite of thestreams of water poured into the hold it was soon evident that theship was doomed. Smoke began to ooze up between the plankseverywhere, and the rising gale soon fanned the smouldering fire toflames that began to break out here and there, telling the dreadfultruth too plainly for anyone to hide. Mrs Hardy and Mary bore theshock bravely when told to be ready to quit the ship at a minute'snotice; the boats were hastily prepared, and the men worked with awill to batten down every loophole whence the fire might escape. Soonthe poor Brenda was a floating furnace, and the order to 'Take to theboats!' came for all. The women first, of course, and it wasfortunate that, being a merchantman, there were no more passengers onboard, so there was no panic, and one after the other the boatspushed off. That in which the women were lingered near, for the bravecaptain would be the last to leave his ship.

 

　　Emil stayed by him till ordered away, and reluctantly obeyed; but itwas well for him he went, for just as he had regained the boat,rocking far below, half hidden by a cloud of smoke, a mast,undermined by the fire now raging in the bowels of the ship, fellwith a crash, knocking Captain Hardy overboard. The boat soon reachedhim as he floated out from the wreck, and Emil sprung into the sea torescue him, for he was wounded and senseless. This accident made itnecessary for the young man to take command, and he at once orderedthe men to pull for their lives, as an explosion might occur at anymoment.

 

　　The other boats were out of danger and all lingered to watch thesplendid yet awesome spectacle of the burning ship alone on the widesea, reddening the night and casting a lurid glare upon the water,where floated the frail boats filled with pale faces, all turned fora last look at the fated Brenda, slowly settling to her watery grave.

 

　　No one saw the end, however, for the gale soon swept the watchers faraway and separated them, some never to meet again till the sea givesup its dead.

 

　　The boat whose fortunes we must follow was alone when dawn came up,showing these survivors all the dangers of their situation. Food andwater had been put in, and such provision for comfort and safety astime allowed; but it was evident that with a badly wounded man, twowomen, and seven sailors, their supply would not last long, and helpwas sorely needed. Their only hope was in meeting a ship, althoughthe gale, which had raged all night, had blown them out of theircourse. To this hope all clung, and wiled away the weary hours,watching the horizon and cheering one another with prophecies ofspeedy rescue.

 

　　Second mate Hoffmann was very brave and helpful, though hisunexpected responsibility weighed heavily on his shoulders; for thecaptain's state seemed desperate, the poor wife's grief wrung hisheart, and the blind confidence of the young girl in his power tosave them made him feel that no sign of doubt or fear must lessen it.

 

　　The men did their part readily now, but Emil knew that if starvationand despair made brutes of them, his task might be a terrible one. Sohe clutched his courage with both handg, kept up a manly front, andspoke so cheerily of their good chances, that all instinctivelyturned to him for guidance and support.

 

　　The first day and night passed in comparative comfort, but when thethird came, things looked dark and hope began to fail. The woundedman was delirious, the wife worn out with anxiety and suspense, thegirl weak for want of food, having put away half her biscuit for hermother, and given her share of water to wet her father's feverishlips. The sailors ceased rowing and sat grimly waiting, openlyreproaching their leader for not ............