ng the weight,
we can't turn to and deny it. Now, suppose she was fishy; suppose it was
some kind of a Bully Hayes business! It's my opinion we'd better be on
hand with the pistols."

Every man of the party but Hemstead had some kind of a revolver; these
were accordingly loaded and disposed about the persons of the castaways,
and the packing was resumed and finished in the same rapturous spirit as
it was begun. The sun was not yet ten degrees above the eastern sea, but
the brig was already close in and hove-to, before they had launched the
boat and sped, shouting at the oars, towards the passage.

It was blowing fresh outside with a strong send of sea. The spray flew
in the oarsmen's faces. They saw the Union Jack blow abroad from the
_Flying Scud_, the men clustered at the rail, the cook in the
galley-door, the captain on the quarter-deck with a pith helmet and
binoculars. And the whole familiar business, the comfort, company, and
safety of a ship, heaving nearer at each stroke, maddened them with joy.

Wicks was the first to catch the line, and swarm on board, helping hands
grabbing him as he came and hauling him across the rail.

"Captain, sir, I suppose?" he said, turning to the hard old man in the
pith helmet.

"Captain Trent, sir," returned the old gentleman.

"Well, I'm Captain Kirkup, and this is the crew of the Sydney schooner
_Currency Lass_, dismasted at sea January 28th."

"Ay, ay," said Trent. "Well, you're all right now. Lucky for you I saw
your signal. I didn't know I was so near this beastly island, there must
be a drift to the south'ard here; and when I came on deck this morning
at eight bells, I thought it was a ship afire."

It had been agreed that, while Wicks was to board the ship and do the
civil, the rest were to remain in the whaleboat and see the treasure
safe. A tackle was passed down to them; to this they made fast the
invaluable chest, and gave the word to heave. But the unexpected weight
brought the hand at the tackle to a stand; two others ran to tail on and
help him, and the thing caught the eye of Trent.

"'Vast heaving!" he cried sharply; and then to Wicks: "What's that? I
don't ever remember to have seen a chest weigh like that."

"It's money," said Wicks.

"It's what?" cried Trent.

"Specie," said Wicks; "saved from the wreck."

Trent looked at him sharply. "Here, let go that chest again, Mr.
Goddedaal," he commanded, "shove the boat off, and stream her with a
line aste