of the deep darkness, and he observed
with interest the increase of the light. While he was watching the east,
the lookout man in the foretop hailed the deck. He listened and moved
forward to the foremast to hear what passed between him and the first
officer.

"Steamer on the port bow, sir!" reported the man aloft.

Scott saw the vessel, but she was too far off to be made out. She passed
and disappeared; but about the moment he lost sight of her, he thought he
heard the report of a musket, or some other firearm, to the northward of
the ship. He listened with all his ears, and then distinguished very
faintly shouts from human voices. He waited only long enough to satisfy
himself that he had not mistaken the roar of the sea for calls for help,
and then went forward to the pilot-house, where he announced that he had
heard the shots and the cries.

"Are you sure of it, Mr. Scott?" asked the first officer.

"Very sure, sir."

"We have heard nothing, and the lookouts have not reported anything," added
Mr. Boulong.

"On deck, sir! Wreck on the port beam!" yelled the lookout aloft.

"Call the captain, Mr. Scott," said the first officer, as he went out on
deck.

He made out the ominous sounds, and judged that they came from a point not
more than a mile distant. The commander and Scott appeared immediately; and
with the increased daylight they discovered several men clinging to what
appeared to be a wreck.

CHAPTER III

A REVIEW OF THE PAST FOURTEEN MONTHS

The Guardian-Mother had sailed from New York about fourteen months before
she appeared in the waters of the Arabian Sea. She was a steam-yacht of 624
tons burden, owned by Louis Belgrave, a young man who had just entered his
eighteenth year. His native place was Von Blonk Park, in New Jersey, most
of whose territory had been the farm of the young gentleman's grandfather,
who had become a millionaire by the sale of his land.

The terrors of the War of the Rebellion had driven the old man to convert
his property into gold, which he had concealed so effectually that no one
could find it. His only son, more patriotic than his father, had enlisted
in the loyal army, and had been severely wounded in the brave and faithful
discharge of his duty, and returned to the home of his childhood a wreck of
his former self.

His father died during his absence, and Paul Belgrave, the soldier, was his
sole heir. His phy