“Good Heaven, that depends upon circumstances. If in beating about in this storm, she has sprung a leak, she must go down in a few minutes.” “But if she has been cast upon a sand-bank, or driven ashore?” “Even then it is doubtful whether we could aid her. If she has been cast upon Smith’s Sand-bar, as I fear is the case, we could not approach her without sharing her fate.” “But the boats?” “Would not reach her in this sea.” “But the gale may go down before she breaks up,” suggested the pitying and hopeful mate. “Well, Heaven grant it; for if it should turn out so, we may be of assistance,” replied the captain. Every five minutes the signal gun was fired. The captain, mate and crew, listened in impotent sympathy, or spoke together in hushed and solemn voices; for well they knew that, but for the blessing of Providence upon their almost superhuman exertions, this case of shipwreck might have been their own. Meanwhile the Queen Charlotte flew before the wind. At every firing of the signal gun, she seemed nearer the sound. “We are approaching that other ship! We must look out, and not run afoul of her,” said the captain, leaving his position, and going forward to give orders. Once again the signal gun was fired, and then it was heard no more. When ten or fifteen minutes had elapsed, and the listening crew found no repetition of the sound— “God help her,” said the captain, “she is lost!” The crew echoed his groan. Day dawned, and the sun arose over a wild, wild scene. Black and ragged clouds, the fragments of the broken storm, drove across the sky. The wind was still very strong, and the waves ran very high. The Queen Charlotte scudded along under a close-reefed main topsail and reefed foresail. She kept a sharp look out for some sign of the fate of the ship she had heard firing the signal guns in the night. The mate took his post forward, and with telescope in hand, scanned the expanse of sea ahead. And thus it was scarcely a quarter of an hour after sunrise, that that officer suddenly dropped his glass and called out: “A wreck on the sand-bank ahead!” The captain hurried forward, seized the glass from the hand of the mate, leveled it and took sight. “By my life, it is the poor Mercury! and if we do not look sharp we shall run foul of her! Mind what you are about there at the wheel. Hard up. Hard up—so! Steady—steady!” cried the captain. The ship answered her helm, and presently came in sight of the wreck. It was a terrible spectacle. There before them lay the sand-bank and the broken ship!