"Captain," asked Lestrange, "are you sure there's no sight of the
dinghy?"

"None," replied Le Farge.

The unfortunate man's head sank on his breast. He had little time
to brood over his troubles, however, for a tragedy was beginning
to unfold around him, the most shocking, perhaps, in the annals of
the sea--a tragedy to be hinted at rather than spoken of.

When the boats were within hailing distance, a man in the bow of
the long-boat rose up.

"Quarter-boat ahoy!"

"Ahoy!"

"How much water have you?"

"None!"

The word came floating over the placid moonlit water. At it the
fellows in the long-boat ceased rowing, and you could see the
water-drops dripping off their oars like diamonds in the
moonlight.

"Quarter-boat, ahoy!" shouted the fellow in the bow. "Lay on your
oars."

"Here, you scowbanker!" cried Le Farge, "who are you to be giving