After awhile the southern edge of the open water was attained, when the craft entered a labyrinth of comparatively narrow channels, winding between salt-marshes. The black, saline mud of these marshes emitted a pungent smell, as the waves washed along the banks; while the long grass, which thickly covered their surface, whistled or rattled in the gale. Occasionally, a gull was seen, screaming aloft, in spite of the storm, now swept swiftly down the wind, and now slowly battling his way up against the tempest. “There it is,” suddenly cried one of the crew, and, as he spoke, he pointed across the beach, along whose inner side the boat was now coasting. They were opposite where, at its narrowest part, sea. and bay approached within a few hundred yards of each other; and, following the direction of the man’s finger, Major Gordon saw a large ship, lying some distance from the shore, with her masts gone and apparently deserted. She lay, careened towards the south, at a right angle to the coast, so that nearly every wave swept her for the entire length of her decks. At first, as we have said, she seemed deserted. But, looking more closely, Major Gordon discovered, under the lee of her weather side, and sheltered by the high stern, two female figures, attended by a solitary companion of the other sex. “Luff, luff,” he cried to Mullen, who was steering. “She’ll lay close alongside the bank, won’t she? Let go everything with a run.” In a moment the craft rasped against the steep mud bank, and in another Major Gordon had leaped ashore, and was moving towards the surf, leaving the others to follow more at leisure. CHAPTER VII. THE ABORTIVE ATTEMPT Shout to them in the pauses of the storm, And tell them there is hope. * * * It is too late; No help of human hand can reach them there; One hour will hush their cries. —Maturin. All sat mute, Pondering the danger with deep thoughts. —Milton. At this sight, the three persons on the wreck, who, when first seen, had seemed as inanimate as stone, started up, and while the females clasped their hands, their companion began to wave a handkerchief as a signal. In a lull of the gale, Major Gordon shouted to them, making an impromptu speaking-trumpet of his hands. Only a faint sound, however, came back, proving that the strangers had replied; its purport was undistinguishable. “They can’t hear a word you say,” remarked Mullen, coming up. “But they saw you were speaking to them, by your actions. If we can’t hear them,” he pertinently added, “with the wind towards us, how can they hear us?” “Hark!” answered Major Gordon, “I thought I made out a word or two then. Didn’t he say that all on board were lost except themselves?” “Likely enough. But see, he’s got a speaking-trumpet.”