"It is as I thought; it is the _San Josef_," said Tom Horn, when they reached the deck. He pointed to the vast wooden wall which arose, sheer, alongside them; up and up it went, and Anthony counted three great decks; the stern towered like a castle, and had been pierced by a dozen windows; the huge sides grinned with ports where brass cannon had once threatened the stout English sea-thieves. Traces of fire were about her timbers; the fungus growth seemed all that held her together. "Taken, looted, and burned," said Anthony. "A treasure-galleon, like as not, and the prey of a Cumberland, a Drake, or a Morgan, years ago." Next the _San Josef_ was a great Dutch ship; she was almost as tall in the stern as the Spaniard; her timbers had been splintered by the shot of some ancient battle, but the strength of her great dowels and cunningly wrought frame had kept her corpse whole. Beside the Dutchman floated the Salem merchantman, a sturdy ship and a swift one before fate overtook her, but small compared to the lumbering fighting craft of an older day. The galley spoken of by Tom Horn lay almost submerged; the green slippery planks of her bow stuck tragically out of the scum. "If I could convince myself that it were possible," said Anthony, his eyes upon this craft, "I'd say she was of the Mediterranean, for there's been no galleys in the Atlantic these many years." "She once wore a great beak on her stem," said Corkery. "See where it's been sawn away." "Don John of Austria fought the battle of Lepanto with just such craft," said Anthony, "and before the fight he ordered the ram to be cut from every ship in his fleet, so that they might run close alongside the enemy. But that was two hundred years ago." "I would not take one day of it from this vessel's age," said Corkery, shaking his head. "Like as not she's one of the stove-in hulks that drifted out of that old fight. But how did she make her way through all the seas and get lodgment here at last?" "God knows," said Anthony. "And that's an answer that must be made to many a question asked of this strange place." "Look!" cried Tom Horn. "Look, oh, look!" cried mademoiselle. Their voices arose almost together; Anthony and the mate turned, and there, freely riding the scum in an open space, the stumps of her masts showing above the bulwarks, they saw the fine, sound hull of the _Rufus Stevens_! XLII Yes, there she rode, as calmly as though at anchor in the river; the very paint looked new upon her; she was clean and whole and undismayed. At once Anthony ordered out a boat and put three of the seamen in it; then, with mademoiselle, he also got in and headed through the mass of litter toward the ship. It was laborious pulling, but stout sweeps and strong bodies accomplished it, and within an hour they stood upon the vessel's deck. [Illustration: "... HEADED THROUGH THE MASS OF LITTER TOWARD THE SHIP."]