THE FATE OF THE SEA QUEEN.

The wind “went down with the sun,” speaking after the manner of the weather-wise, and once more the air was warm and balmy. Even had it continued cold the castaways would have had no thought of retiring to the tent that night. The stranded schooner, the mystery attending Captain Irwin’s appearance, and the hope of speedily being able to leave the key, all served to plunge them in such a state of excitement that there was no desire for sleep.

Jake and Ben kept the fire burning merrily, for there was no necessity now to husband the fuel, and Gertie held the cat in her arms as all speculated upon the singular chain of circumstances which had brought Captain Irwin to that lonely key at the very time when he was most needed.

In this way, alternately conversing and listening for any hail which might come from the wreck, the night passed, and when morning dawned there was nothing to prevent those on the schooner from landing. The sea was like a mirror for smoothness, with not a ripple on its glassy surface, and the long swell rolled up on the beach with the faintest of murmurs as if weary with the turmoil of the previous twenty-four hours.

That Captain Irwin and his companion had felt perfectly secure regarding the condition of affairs was shown by their being yet asleep as Jake and Ben went down to the very edge of the shore when the first light of day gave them a view of the deck. The hulk was keeled over slightly, the receding waves having left her considerably nearer the land, but otherwise she rested as securely as if on a submarine railway, and her position would probably remain unchanged until another storm transformed the lazy undulations into leaping, angry waves.

“They seem to be takin’ things pretty cool for shipwrecked men,” Jake said after he and his companion had gazed at the hulk several moments in silence. “It appears as if we were the ones who borrowed the most trouble. I reckon it’s time for Captain Jack to tell us how he came aboard of that craft, an’ here goes for wakin’ him. Schooner ahoy! Aho-o-o-y!”

“Halloo on shore!” Captain Irwin replied as he leaped to his feet, the calm of the morning permitting the words to ring out distinctly.

“Have you made up your mind to stay there all day, or will you come ashore an’ have breakfast?”

“I reckon we’ll land as soon as we can get a rope stretched. Wade into the water as far as you can, and I’ll pass a heaving line.”

“It ain’t the pleasantest thing in the world to go foolin’ ’round where there are sharks,” Jake muttered, his old habit of grumbling coming upon him now that the captain’s presence seemed to assure the safety of all; “but perhaps they won’t ven’ter over the shoals.”

“I’ll go,” Ben said eagerly. “It would have to be a pretty lively shark that could catch me.”

“Stay where you are and take care of old Chloe an’ Gertie,” the cook replied with a comical assumption of dignity as he waded into the low-running surf.

Five minutes later he was walking toward the shore pulling a light hawser which was made fast to the heaving-line, and with Ben’s assistance a couple of half-hitches were soon taken around the trunk of the largest mangrove tree.

When this had been done the main hatch was launched as a boat, and on it Captain Irwin and his companion landed without difficulty.

For several moments after he stepped ashore the scene was one of boisterous confusion. It appeared as if Jake and Ben would never grow weary of shaking hands, and Gertie got half a dozen kisses before she believed her share of the welcome had been received.

“Tell us how you got aboard of that craft, and where the Sea Queen is,” Jake said as soon as he could make himself heard, and Captain Irwin replied with a smile:

“You’d better spin your yarn first, for it puzzles me considerably to know where you picked up two new shipmates,” and he pointed toward Aunt Chloe and the cat.

It was some time before either of the little party had become sufficiently calm to be able to tell a connected story, but they finally succeeded after many interruptions from each other, and when all the adventures had been related, including the finding of the message from the dead, they learned of the Sea Queen’s fate, Captain Irwin’s story being substantially as follows:

The fog enshrouded the schooner just as the line was made fast to the turtle, and fully ten minutes before Jake, Gertie and Ben were aware of its coming. Captain Irwin had just gone below before the cloud came up out of the sea, and the mate who was in charge neglected to take the bearings of the boat before the dense vapor hid her entirely from view. There was no wind, and to send out a crew in search of the lost ones, not knowing in which direction they were towed by the turtle, would have been the height of folly, therefore no move was made until the wind sprung up, an hour or two before midnight.

During this enforced idleness, when his step-daughter was in such great peril, Dr. Harlan showed but little genuine anxiety. He seemed to be annoyed, fearing he might be deprived of Gertie’s services after learning of how much assistance she could be in his peculiar business, and scolded considerably because Captain Irwin had said there was no danger to be apprehended in attempting to capture the turtle, but evinced no sorrow for her possible fate. When the longed-for wind came and the schooner was gotten under way, the quack went into his state-room, even though both watches remained on deck to act as lookouts, and so far as could be ascertained, slept soundly. The vessel’s course was set toward that point where the boat had last been seen, and all hands kept up an incessant shouting until the howling of the gale drowned their friendly cries.

When the storm which had thrown the Simoon on the key was at its height, it would have been impossible to extend any aid even had the little craft been close alongside, and the Sea Queen was headed toward the open waters of the gulf, it being the captain’s intention to run into the very teeth of the wind until it subsided, when he would continue the search for the missing ones.

As a matter of course, the night was as black as the castaways had experienced while on the dismantled brig. The lookout could not see a dozen yards ahead, and the Sea Queen plunged blindly through the waves, making but little headway, until nearly three o’clock in the morning, when suddenly a vessel hove up through the gloom close on the starboard bow, running dead before the gale.

Hardly a dozen seconds elapsed from the time the craft first came into view until she struck the Sea Queen amidships, and owing to her greater velocity, crashed through the timbers as if they had been paper.

The stranger’s foremast was carried away by the shock, and with it four of her crew of five, while she was badly stove about the bow. The Sea Queen received the brunt of the collision. She was rolled over by the blow which had splintered her timbers below the water-line, and sank before the frightened crew had time to make the least effort toward providing for their own safety. Captain Irwin was near the starboard rail aft when the catastrophe occurred, and was hurled into the water clear of his own vessel toward the other craft, which accident resulted in the saving of his life while all the others on the schooner perished. He had instinctively struck out with his arms on coming to the surface near the stranger’s cutwater, and a huge wave dashed him directly upon the main-chains, from where he readily clambered inboard.

The Mermaid, which was the name of the craft that had sunk the Sea Queen, had but one of her crew surviving, and it was some moments before anything could be done to prevent her also from foundering. When Captain Irwin had collected his scattered senses and learned of the damage done to the colliding vessel, the foremast was thrashing and pounding against the side in a manner that threatened speedily to shatter every timber, and the efforts of both men were directed to the task of cutting it adrift. Several times, before this was accomplished, did it seem as if the remaining spars would go by the board, but fortunately the Mermaid was nearly new, her standing rigging in good condition, and it was possible, after the most severe exertions, to heave her to.

In this position she rode out the gale even better than could have been expected, but Captain Irwin and the man, Tom Johnson, were obliged to work more than half the time at the pumps. Daylight found them in nearly the same place, but nothing could be seen of the ill-fated Sea Queen save a mass of wreckage far away to the westward.

Although the Mermaid was in imminent danger of foundering, Captain Irwin bore away in the hope of finding some of his crew, but all in vain. During the day, while the two men alternately stood at the wheel and worked the pump, she cruised in the vicinity, and at night-fall, positive that none save themselves had survived the disaster, knowing also that the schooner could not long be kept afloat, the course was set for Key West.

Before that port could be reached, and when both men were nearly exhausted, the norther sprang up. That the Mermaid would live through it neither of those who were working so manfully believed; but she did, despite her crippled condition, and when the gale abated sufficiently to admit of making any headway, she was steered for the nearest land.

“We didn’t get here any too soon,” Captain Irwin said as he concluded the story. “Johnson and I were so nearly used up that it would have been almost impossible to work the pumps three hours longer, and when we struck this key the Mermaid was two-thirds full of water. There was no thought of coming ashore last night, for we needed sleep more than anything else, and in ten minutes after she took ground our eyes were closed, not to be opened until you hailed.”

“Well, now that you’re here, captain, what are you goin’ to do toward helpin’ us get away from this place?” Jake asked. “It looks pretty nice while a feller’s on a sinkin’ vessel; but when he’s tied right down to it, knowin’ what happened to Ben’s father, it ain’t the pleasantest island to live on I ever saw.”

“I don’t fancy we need stay very long,” Captain Irwin replied cheerfully. “We shall be pretty poor sailors if we can’t rig up a craft out of the schooner’s timbers, and it isn’t very far to Key West.”

“Where are we?” Jake asked quickly.

“On Content Key.”

“Then I was right,” he cried triumphantly, and from that moment he believed himself to be very nearly as good a navigator as he knew he was a cook.

“Now let’s see what Jake and aunty can do in the way of getting breakfast,” Captain Irwin said. “There are plenty of provisions on the Mermaid, and the galley-stove can be brought ashore, or they be taken on board as may be preferred. My idea is that two cooks ought to be able to feed us pretty well while we stay here.”

“I’se worked for some ob de fustest families in Georgy,” old Chloe said with considerable dignity, “an’ I knows how mos’ ebery kind ob a dish oughter be served; but I’se done gone got frou paddlin’ roun’ on little boards.”

“Then Johnson and Jake shall go after the stove, and from this time out, aunty, your reputation as a cook is at stake, for we shall all be able to eat our full allowance. Come, Ben, you and I will set about finding the best place for a ship-yard, and after that has been done, all hands, excepting of course old Chloe and Gertie, will begin dismantling the schooner. I am expecting that we shall make decently good wages in the matter of salvage, for she is loaded with hides, and every one of them can be saved.”

The captain’s business-like manner had a wonderful effect on those who, a few hours previous, thought it would be a great hardship to remain many days longer on the key. There now seemed to be no immediate necessity for departure, and all hands went to work with a will.

After making a complete circuit of the island, and deciding that the boat-building operations should be carried on at the north, or shoal side, breakfast was ready, and when that important meal had been eaten the work of putting up the Mermaid’s mainsail as a stationary camp was begun. The old tent was to be used as a kitchen, and in it the provisions and cooking utensils were placed, Chloe being installed as the presiding genius, for Jake’s services would be required in the work of unloading the schooner.

Thus the first day was spent, and at night-fall Content Key looked like a homestead rather than a desolate reef. Two tents, fully protected from heavy winds by timbers driven firmly into the sand, were up. A considerable amount of lumber had been carried to the ship-yard, and all was in readiness for taking out the Mermaid’s cargo.

Everything was done in “ship-shape fashion,” as Jake expressed it in a tone of most decided satisfaction while they were eating supper. The edges of the main tent were buried deep in the sand, and weighted down with the schooner’s chain-cable to steady it in case of a storm, while one end had been partitioned off for the exclusive use of old Chloe, Gertie and the cat. The kitchen was lashed even more firmly than before, and fully supplied with provisions, while two full water-breakers stood just outside, thus insuring a plentiful supply of that precious liquid whatever might happen.

It was a pleasing contrast with that scene which four of the castaways had looked upon the morning previous, and all hands felt remarkably cheerful despite the many reasons which could have been found for sadness.

“De Lawd has been wonderful good to us po’ sinful creeters,” old Chloe said devoutly, as the whole party were resting from the labors of the day in the main tent, which was lighted by the schooner’s lanterns, “an’ ef He ain’t done gone forgot us, we oughter show a little bit of respec’ kase ob His goodness.”

“You’re right, aunty,” Captain Irwin replied heartily, “and I ought to be ashamed to wait until an old woman like you reminds me of my duty. We are pretty poor stuff if we’re not willing to acknowledge our debts after so many good fellows have gone to Davy Jones’ locker, and there never were six people who had greater cause for gratitude.”

Then the captain offered a simple but soul-felt prayer, which old Chloe interrupted with many a fervent “bress de Lawd,” and when it was ended all probably felt as Jake privately expressed himself to Ben, “as if they hadn’t been doin’ any more’n the square thing.”

It was unnecessary to stand watch, since they were in no danger of being intruded upon, and all hands laid down with the low murmur of the placid sea singing them to sleep, while high in the heavens the fair moon looked upon a scene in which appeared to be pictured perfect peace.