ossible to distinguish the full extent of the coast line. Houses
appeared, and trees, and green oases of cultivation, but these were
mere spots of color amid the arid blackness of a land of bleak rock and
stone-strewed hills.

There was a strong current setting from the southeast, and the dying
gale left its aftermath in a long swell, but the _Andromeda_ rolled on
with ever-increasing comfort. Even Iris was tempted forth by the
continued sunshine.

Coke was not on the bridge at the moment. Mr. Watts was taking the
watch; Hozier was on deck forrard, looking for gravel and shells on the
instrument that picks up these valuable indications from the floor of
the sea. Suddenly the captain appeared. He greeted Iris with a genial
nod.

"Ah, there you are," he cried. "Not seen you since this time
yesterday. Sorry, but there'll be no goin' ashore to-day. We're on
the wrong side of the island, an' it 'ud toss you a bit if you was to
try an' land in eether of the boats. Take 'er in easy now, Mr. Watts.
That's our anchorage--over there," and he pointed to the mouth of a
narrow channel between South Point and the Ile des Fregates, the latter
a tiny islet that almost blocks the entrance to a shallow bay into
which runs a rivulet of good but slightly brackish water.

The ship slowed perceptibly, and Hozier busied himself with the lead,
which a sailor was swinging on the starboard side from the small
platform of the accommodation ladder. Iris did not know what was said,
but the queer figures repeated to Coke seemed to be satisfactory.
Headlands and hills crept nearer. The rocky arms of the island closed
in on them. A faint scent as of sweet grasses reached them from the
shore. Iris could see several people, nearly all of them men in
uniform, hurrying about with an air of excitement that betokened the
unusual. Perhaps a steamer's advent on the south side of the island
was a novelty.

Now they were in a fairly smooth roadstead; the remnants of the gale
were shouldered away from the ship by the towering cliff that jutted
out on the left of the bay. The crew were mostly occupied in clearing
blocks and tackle and swinging two life-boats outward on their davits.

"All ready forrard?" roared Coke. Hozier ran to the forecastle. He
found the carpenter there, standing by the windlass brake.

"All ready, sir!" he cried.

Coke nodded to him.

"Give her thirty-five," he said, meaning thereby that the anchor should
be all