But their efforts were not very successful. As the Scotch say, "It's ill jesting on an empty stomach," and that is the malady from which they all were suffering. Thirst did not as yet trouble them much, but they knew that if they were not speedily picked up by some vessel, that would also be added to their ordeal. So the night passed away, with the castaways watching in turn for some ray of hope of the fog lifting. It was soon after midnight, and in Rob's watch, that a startling thing happened--something that brought his heart into his mouths, and set his every nerve on vibrant edge. The boy was sitting up forward, pondering the strangeness of the day's happenings, when suddenly, right ahead of him, as it seemed, the fog was split by the hoarse shriek of a steamer's whistle. Rob's scalp tightened from alarm as he leaped for the lantern. "Look out!" he shouted at the top of his voice; "look out!" But for reply there only came back out of the dense smother ahead another raucous call of the big steam whistle. "Gracious! We'll be run down! We'll be sunk!" cried the boy, half wild with alarm. He shouted to his companions to come on deck; but before they could obey, a huge, black bulk loomed up right above the derelict. Rob shouted at the top of his voice. It seemed as if the _Good Hope_ would be cut in two and that the steamer was also doomed to disaster if she struck. Through the blackness flashed a green side-light, and then came the rushing by of the great hull, with its rows of illuminated portholes. Rob stood stock still. He was fairly rooted to the spot with panic. But the big steamer raced by in the blackness and fog without anyone on board her ever dreaming that she had been in such close proximity to the drifting derelict. As her stern lights flashed for an instant and then were shut out in the fog, Rob's companions came rushing on deck. "What is it? What has happened?" demanded the ensign, readily perceiving that something very serious had occurred. Rob, still shaky from his experience, related, as briefly as possible, just what had caused his cry of alarm. "Well, those liners take desperate chances," commented the officer; "had they struck us, not only we, but they, would have been seriously injured." "Gee! I wish you could have found time to ask 'em to throw us some sandwiches," said Tubby, rubbing his stomach; "I'm as empty as a dry gourd." "I reckon we could all do with something to eat," chorused the other young "Eagles". The ensign bade them cheer up. "By daylight we may have a wind, and then, with the fog gone, it won't take long for some vessel to pick us up." He spoke with a cheerfulness he was actually far from feeling. In fact, his boyish listeners were not inclined to look hopefully on the situation. By this time every one of them would have given almost all he possessed for a big pitcher of cool ice water.