of it all you all know better than
I can tell you!"

"Aye," put in the skipper, "we saw your boat adrift--at least, old
Masters did--I'll give him the credit for that. Then we picked you up,
and here you are!"

Hardly had the skipper uttered these words, completing the colonel's
story, when Mr Fosset suddenly poked his head through the skylight over
the after end of the saloon, the hatch of which opened out on the deck
of the poop above.

Nor was the first mate merely satisfied with the abrupt intrusion of his
figurehead into our midst, for he rattled the glass of the skylight in
no very gentle fashion at the same time, the better, I suppose, to
attract our attention, though we were all staring open-mouthed at him
already, all startled by his unexpected appearance on the scene.

But he rattled the glass all the same as he looked down upon us, none
the less; aye, all the more, rattled it with a will, frightening us all!

"Hi! Cap'en, Cap'en Applegarth!" he sang out at the very top of his
voice, as excited as you please. "That ship's in sight! the ship's in
sight, at last, sir. She's hull down to leeward about seven miles off!
But we're overhauling her fast now, sir, hand over hand!"

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

WITHIN HAIL.

"By George! is that so?" ejaculated the skipper, starting off with a mad
clutch at his cap, which he had thrown off on to a locker close by in
the heat of his excitement during the colonel's yarn. "I'll be on the
bridge in a jiffey! Thank God for that news!"

"Hooray!" shouted Garry O'Neil, as we all immediately jumped from our
seats on hearing this joyful intelligence, long though it had been in
coming, even the poor colonel, sliding his bandaged leg off its
supporting chair and standing on his feet, prepared to follow the
skipper on deck without a moment's delay. "Be the powers! I knew we'd
overhaul them divvles before sundown! Faith, an' I tould ye so,
colonel; I tould ye so, you know I did!"

But just then an unexpected interruption arrested us as we all moved
towards the companion-way to regain the deck above.

"Look here, colonel," cried a voice from the skipper's state room aft,
where the commander of the _Saint Pierre_ was supposed to be reposing in
an almost insensible condition. "Get out of here! you are not worth
being angry with."

"Begorrah, it's your poor fri'nd in there!" said Garry O'Neil to the
colonel. "What's the poor crayture parleyvooing about, instid of