sage between
the two Douvres, where he had left the sloop, the sun had set, the
twilight was increased by that pale light which comes from a crescent
moon; the tide had attained its height, and was beginning to ebb. The
funnel standing upright above the sloop had been covered by the foam
during the tempest with a coating of salt which glittered white in the
light of the moon.

This circumstance reminded Gilliatt that the storm had inundated the
sloop, both with surf and rain-water, and that if he meant to start in
the morning, it would be necessary to bail it out.

Before leaving to go in quest of crabs, he had ascertained that it had
about six inches of water in the hold. The scoop which he used for the
purpose would, he thought, be sufficient for throwing the water
overboard.

On arriving at the barrier, Gilliatt was struck with terror. There were
nearly two feet of water in the sloop. A terrible discovery; the bark
had sprung a leak.

She had been making water gradually during his absence. Burdened as she
was, two feet of water was a perilous addition. A little more, and she
must inevitably founder. If he had returned but an hour later, he would
probably have found nothing above water but the funnel and the mast.

There was not a minute to be lost in deliberation. It was absolutely
necessary to find the leakage, stop it, and then empty the vessel, or at
all events, lighten it. The pumps of the Durande had been lost in the
break-up of the wreck. He was reduced to use the scoop of the bark.

To find the leak was the most urgent necessity.

Gilliatt set to work immediately, and without even giving himself time
to dress. He shivered; but he no longer felt either hunger or cold.

The water continued to gain upon his vessel. Fortunately there was no
wind. The slightest swell would have been fatal.

The moon went down.

Bent low, and plunged in the water deeper than his waist he groped about
for a long time. He discovered the mischief at last.

During the gale, at the critical moment when the sloop had swerved, the
strong bark had bumped and grazed rather violently on the rocks. One of
the projections of the Little Douvre had made a fracture in the
starboard side of the hull.

The leak unluckily--it might almost have been said, maliciously--had
been made near the joint of the two riders, a fact which, joined with
the fury of the hurricane, had prevented him perceiving it during his
dark and rapid survey in th