els.
Seamen (it was stated) were in the habit, when a disaster was
imminent, of committing a short account of the catastrophe to the
waves in a sealed bottle which, in all likelihood, would one day be
picked up by fishermen. But out of some six hundred missing vessels no
such memorial had ever made its appearance. Human hands, it was
therefore concluded, must be at work, and search for them must be
diligently made. The document, therefore, required the commander of
every man-of-war and gunboat to take every possible step to track out
the mysterious destroyer.

How the Apostle of Dago laughed sardonically as he read the order.

"So they are coming at last!" he cried; "those for whom I have waited
so long! Right well shall they be received!"

At that season of the year dense fogs begin to be prevalent in the
Baltic. These are of the utmost danger to seamen, for the rays from
the lighthouses cannot penetrate the atmosphere, and the attention of
vessels can only be attracted by the sound of bells.

On one such hazy and sultry night the Master of the Tower of Dago rang
the bell for evening "service." That night, surely, they should hold
high festival. Vessels of war were certainly scouring the seas all
around. One such vessel was still wanting on the rocks of Dago.
Smaller ships, such as gunboats, brigs and corvettes, were lying there
in plenty, forming excellent places of retreat for the hydra and
nautilus. To them the company of a full three-decker could not but be
welcome.

Presently, in response to the sounds which had so often proved a
mariner's death-knell, an answering signal was borne in from the open
sea. It was the familiar, long-drawn tones of a great sea-horn, which
can be heard many miles off in foggy weather.

They were coming, then, at last!

Only a little while ago, no doubt, they had thought that they had lost
their way. But now, thank God! they were sailing towards a safe
harbour. By daybreak they should be beyond all danger!

"Not God in Heaven can save them now!" muttered the Master, as with
such thoughts he gazed intently into the gloom.

But, nevertheless, it appeared that He could save them.

Just as the approaching sound of the fog-signal indicated that the
vessel could now be scarcely a mile distant from the tower, the fog
suddenly lifted, and the rays of the rising sun disclosed the outline
of a ship of the line.

She immediately dropped her anchor. For, now that the fog had cleared,