Then, as if rousing himself to a sense of his position, he called aloud:

"Major O'Halloran!"

"Yes."

"Gregory!"

"Yes."

"Morgan!"

All answered to their names out of the pitchy blackness. The men, too,
were safe, and upon crawling cautiously to the hatchway which closed in
the cabin, Mrs Strong's voice replied, saying that all was well, only
that they were in an agony of dread.

It was a dread likely to continue for they were perfectly helpless, and
all that the captain could make out was that the cutter had been
uninjured by striking upon the rock, and that she was now floating upon
an even keel, but in what direction it was impossible to say.

People often talk of "dark as pitch," "black as ink," and the like; but
if ever there was an exemplification of this darkness it was now, for a
cloud of the most intense blackness shut them in, and the occupants of
the cutter could only communicate by word of mouth or touch.

"Surely this will lift soon!" said the major at last; and his voice
sounded shut in and strange. "If that light would only shine out
again!"

"To show us to our enemies, major," said Gregory in a low voice.

"I don't think any light would show us to them, Gregory," said the
captain solemnly.

"No," said the major, "we have no more to fear from them."

A dead silence succeeded for a few minutes as all realised how
completely the slight prau had been engulfed while in such a chaos of
waters no swimmer could possibly have been saved with a level sandy
shore before him, far less among the black rocks of that walled-in bay.

Hours passed away, hours of dread, for from time to time the hull of the
cutter seemed to be struck from below, vibrating through every timber as
earthquake shock after shock was felt. Fearful booming sounds were
heard from the island telling them where it lay, and again and again
there were thunderous crashes, as if the whole of the vast globe were
being crumpled up, and the end of all things was at hand.

But in spite of all this, as from being quiescent the sea heaved, and
the cutter was tossed here and there like a cork in some torrent, not a
gleam of light came to her occupants, neither the glow of the eruption
nor the rays from the sun. It must have been day for many hours, but
all around was a breathless calm, and the dense black cloud grew
thicker, and they could feel that the deck of the cutter was thick with
a soft powdery ash.

The anxiety of all was so