ued them from all
the perils that surrounded them; and that this ship might be silently
gliding past, shrouded from their sight under that thick fog,--in
another hour to be far off upon the ocean, never to come within hailing
distance again!

A single word--a shout--might save them; and yet they dared not utter
it; for the same shout might equally betray, and lead to their
destruction.

They were strongly tempted to risk the ambiguous signal. For some
seconds they stood wavering between silence and "Ship ahoy!" but caution
counselled the former, and prudence at length triumphed.

This course was not adopted accidentally. A process of reasoning that
passed through the mind of the old whalesman,--founded upon his former
professional experiences,--conducted him to it.

If it be the whale-ship, reasoned he, she must have come back in search
of the _cachalot_. Her crew must have known that they had killed it.
The "drogues" and flag proved that belief on their part, and the
ex-whalesman knew that it would be well worth their while to return in
search of the whale. It was this very knowledge that had sustained his
hopes, and delayed him so long by its carcass. A whale, which would
have yielded nearly a hundred barrels of spermaceti, was a prize not to
be picked up every day in the middle of the ocean; and he knew that such
a treasure would not be abandoned without considerable search having
first been made to recover it.

All this was in favour of the probability that the voices heard had
proceeded from the whale-ship; and if so, it was farther probable that
in the midst of that fog, while bent upon such an errand, the crew would
not care to make way; but, on the contrary, would "lay to," and wait for
the clearing of the atmosphere.

In that case the Catamarans might still expect to see the welcome ship
when the fog should rise; and with this hope they came to the
determination to keep silence.

The hour was still very early,--the sun scarce yet above the horizon.
When that luminary should appear, his powerful rays would soon dissipate
the darkness; and then, if not before, would they ascertain whether
those voices had proceeded from the throats of monsters or of men.

CHAPTER EIGHTY TWO.

AN INFORMAL INQUEST.

They did not have to stay for the scattering of the fog. Long before
the sun had lifted that veil from off the face of the sea, the crew of
the _Catamaran_ had discovered the character of their ne