a small vessel were making themselves felt.

Night had again set in, and in the cabin Dom Maxara sat, his head thrown
back and his eyes closed, as though asleep, while his daughter, lying on
a sofa, covered with shawls, was endeavouring to read. It was nearly
midnight, but no one thought of retiring. At the table, close under a
lamp, which was waving wildly to and fro, the captain was seated,
intently studying a government map, while Wyzinski leaned over his
shoulders in earnest conversation.

"There," said Captain Weber, as he placed a pin in the chart, "there is
just where the brig is."

"And yet it was only this morning land was sighted," observed the other.

"There exist strong currents, which have set us bodily to leeward; the
wind, too, has more westing in it, and is driving us down on the land.
It is but a question of time."

"If the wind has drawn more to the westward, could we not hold our
course!"

"As I said some time since, the brig has been three years at sea without
an overhaul. If you had asked me the same question this morning, I
should have expressed every confidence in her powers, but you saw
yourself the sticks go over the side like rotten carrots, and I should
have to carry every rag we could set to claw off this shore, for I don't
want to scud before the gale if it can be avoided."

"Many years ago," said Wyzinski, "I was one of a party of missionaries
who sailed from Delagoa Bay with the intention of forming a mission on
the island of Madagascar. The small vessel which carried us was
commanded by a man who had traded with the natives, and who knew the
coast well. He ran into a beautiful bay, all but land-locked, where we
anchored, and remained for nearly a month."

"What course did you steer after leaving Delagoa Bay--can you remember?"

Wyzinski was silent, evidently trying to recall long-past events, while
Isabel had let her book fall on to the sofa by her side, and, with her
limited stock of English, was evidently trying to catch the meaning of
the conversation. Above all came the wild roar of the waves' boiling
around them, the groaning and creaking of the ship's timbers, and the
boom of the fore-staysail as it shook in the wind.

"Our course lay north-east and by north," at length said Wyzinski, his
thoughtful face raised to the lamp, "for the first twenty-four hours."

"Good," answered Captain Weber, ruling off the course on the chart.
"There, that would carry you to somewhe