could not see.

Mr. Pike descended to the deck, followed by Mr. Mellaire. Again, as
the Elsinore dipped by the head and fetched a surge of sea-water from
aft along the runway, I saw the dark object bound for'ard directly at
the mates. They sprang to safety from its charge, the light went
out, while another icy sea broke aboard.

For a time I could see nothing of the two men. Next, in the light
flashed from the stick, I guessed that Mr. Pike was in pursuit of the
thing. He evidently must have captured it at the rail against the
starboard rigging and caught a turn around it with a loose end of
rope. As the vessel rolled to windward some sort of a struggle
seemed to be going on. The second mate sprang to the mate's
assistance, and, together, with more loose ends, they seemed to
subdue the thing.

I descended to see. By the light-stick we made it out to be a large,
barnacle-crusted cask.

"She's been afloat for forty years," was Mr. Pike's judgment. "Look
at the size of the barnacles, and look at the whiskers."

"And it's full of something," said Mr. Mellaire. "Hope it isn't
water."

I rashly lent a hand when they started to work the cask for'ard,
between seas and taking advantage of the rolls and pitches, to the
shelter under the forecastle-head. As a result, even through my
mittens, I was cut by the sharp edges of broken shell.