felt for the shelf that I knew ought to be at the head of
it. Yes, there it was; but as I felt along it I was disappointed to
find that there was nothing on it. But was there not? I had not
examined the entire length of it when I too hastily jumped to the
conclusion that it was empty; as my hand travelled over into the far
corner it suddenly encountered quite a little store of things, all
heaped together--a clasp knife, a pipe, a piece of stick tobacco, and a
few other odd articles, among which was a box about half full of
matches!

They proved to be rather damp, and I had to strike a full half-dozen or
more before I succeeded in persuading one to ignite, and while thus
employed I was struck for the first time by the coincidence between the
condition of affairs on the skipper's shelf and that in the cabin--every
loose article had in each case found its way right over to starboard, as
far as it could go! What did that point to? Why, obviously, that at
some time or another the brig had heeled so heavily to starboard that
every movable thing had fetched away by the run and gone over to that
side, _and had never been replaced_! I gathered from this that the brig
had been suddenly hove over upon her beam-ends, and that her crew,
seized with panic, and no doubt under the impression that she was
capsizing, had made a rush for the boats and abandoned her, being, as
likely as not, blown so far to leeward by the squall that hove the brig
over, that they lost sight of her altogether, and imagined that she had
foundered. And by and by, when the squall had blown itself out, the
brig, with perhaps her canvas blown away, had simply righted again, and
had been drifting about ever since. How long ago that might have
happened, I could not at the moment guess, but I thought that possibly
with the return of daylight I might be able to discover indications
enough to furnish me with a clue.

While thinking thus I had succeeded in finding and lighting a small
lamp, hung in gimbals from the fore bulkhead, and by its illumination I
saw that the stateroom was a nice, clean, cosy little apartment, such as
Miss Onslow might occupy without discomfort; and, waiting only to light
the cabin lamp--the globe of which was smashed in on its starboard side,
as though it had been dashed violently against the deck above--I hurried
up the ladder, and invited the young lady to descend. I led her
straight to the skipper's stateroom, and urged her to l