when his brother gave the word; and, as the
boat tore on through the water like a mad thing, the darkness around
grew thicker and thicker, until all they could distinguish ahead was the
scrap of white sail in the bows and the occasional sparkle of surf as a
roller broke near them.

Should they not be able to see where they were going, they might
possibly be dashed right on to the island in the same way as they had
seen the unfortunate brig destroyed. It was a terrible eventuality to
consider!

Presently, however, the moon rose; and, although the wind did not abate
its force one jot, nor did the sea subside, still, it was more consoling
to see where they were going than to be hurled on destruction unawares.

Eric was peering out over the weather side of the boat, when, all of a
sudden, on the starboard bow, he could plainly distinguish the island,
looking like a large heavy flat mass lifting itself out of the sea.

"There it is!" he cried out to Fritz, who at once looked up, rising a
little from the thwart on which he had been lying.

"Where?"

"To your right, old fellow; but, still ahead. Now, we must see whether
we can make the boat go our way, instead of her own. Do you think you
could manage to haul up the jib by yourself? Take a half-turn round one
of the thwarts with the bight of the halliards, so that it shall not
slip."

Fritz did what was requested; when Eric, keeping the boat's head off the
wind, sang out to his brother to "hoist away."

The effect was instantaneous, for the boat quivered to her keel, as if
she had scraped over a rock in the ocean, and then made a frantic plunge
forwards that sent her bows under.

"Gently, boat, gently," said Eric, bringing her head up again to the
wind, upon which she heeled over till her gunwale was nearly submerged,
but she now raced along more evenly. "Sit over to windward as much as
you can," he called out to Fritz, shifting his own position as he spoke.

Almost before they were aware of it, they were careering past the
western headland of the bay, when Eric, by a sudden turn of his steering
oar, brought the bows of the whale-boat to bear towards the beach. The
little craft partly obeyed the impetus of his nervous arm, veering round
in the wished-for direction, in spite of the broken water, which just at
that point was in a terrible state of commotion from a cross current
that set the tide against the wind.

But, it was not to be.

The doom of the boat