strange vessel is still a far distance off, and the breeze impelling
her, light all along, has suddenly died down--not a ripple showing on
the sea's surface--while her sails now hang loose and limp. Beyond
doubt is she becalmed.

But the _Condor_! Will she, too, cease sailing?

Yes; she must, from the same cause. Already she moves slowly, scarce
making way. And now--now she is motionless! He can tell it, by the
glass rack and lamps overhead, that hang without the slightest
oscillation. Anon, the barque gradually swings round, and he loses
sight of the ship. Through the windows he still beholds the sea, calm
and blue, but vacant; no outline of hull--no expanded sail--no flouting
flag to keep up his heart, which is once more almost despondent.

But only for a short time; again rising as the barque, sheering round,
brings once more her stern towards the ship, and he sees the latter, and
something besides--a boat!

It is down in the water, and coming on toward the _Condor_, the
oar-blades flashing in the sun and flinging spray-drops that seem like
silver stars!

The barque swinging round, he has the boat in view but a short while.
What matters it now? He is certain of being saved!

And he looks no longer--only listens.

Soon to hear words spoken in a strong manly voice, to him sweeter than
music. It is the hail:

"Barque ahoy!"

In feeble accents he makes answer, and continues to call out, till other
voices, echoing along the _Condor's_ decks, become commingled with his
own.

Then there are footsteps on the quarterdeck, soon after heard descending
the cabin-stair.

The handle is turned, the door pushed open, and a swish of fresh air
sweeps in, men along with it; as they enter, giving utterance to wild
exclamations.

Wrenching his neck around, he sees there are two of them, both in the
uniform of naval officers, and both known to him!

Their presence causes him strange emotions, and many--too many for his
strength so long and sorely tried.

Overpowered by the sight, he becomes unconscious, as though instead of
gladdening, it had suddenly deprived him of life!

CHAPTER SEVENTY.

CONJECTURES TOO TRUE.

No need to say that the two officers who have entered the _Condor's_
cabin are Crozier and Cadwallader. For she is the polacca-barque chased
by a frigate, and that frigate the _Crusader_.

The cry simultaneously raised by them is one of strange intonation,
telling less of surprise, than co