The eyes of the keeper and his comrades were not free from a certain moisture, and more than one furtively passed the sleeve of his rough coat across his face as all waited for the lad to recover his composure in a measure. “I’ll try not to cry again, sir,” Benny said piteously, after struggling a moment to force back the tears. “It is well you should grieve, lad; don’t think I blamed you for doing what is only natural. When it is possible you shall tell all you know about the ship and her voyage, giving the names of those members of the crew that come to mind.” Two hours or more passed before Benny had concluded the sad story, and then Keeper Downey was in possession of such facts as were necessary for the proper making up of his official report. According to Benny’s tale the _Amazonia_ had sailed from Calcutta, India, on the 15th of February, and, because of previous disasters, the voyage had consumed almost ten months, during which time the ship had covered a distance equal to one half the circuit of the globe. She was loaded with ten thousand bales of jute; while crossing the Indian Ocean she had run into a cyclone and been dismasted. Under jury-rig the ship was worked to Port Louis, Mauritius, where, after being unloaded, she was thoroughly overhauled and repaired. Not until the middle of September was the voyage resumed, and nothing of note occurred until the vicinity of the Bermudas was reached, when frequent squalls set in, following the vessel until she made the coast of the United States. Captain Clark had not been able to take an observation for several days, and, therefore, was forced to rely upon what mariners term “dead reckoning.” Two days prior to the wreck he spoke a New York pilot-boat, from which he learned his whereabouts, but after passing George’s Shoal, about one hundred miles to the eastward of Cape Cod, he determined to shape his course straight to the westward until sighting the land. Notwithstanding the lack of observations to determine his situation, the captain might easily have discovered his danger by sounding, but instead of doing so he held his course steadily without recourse to the lead, until the dark, gloomy outline of the land loomed up, ominous and forbidding. It was evident from Benny’s story that Captain Clark realized at once the impossibility of working the ship off from that lee shore, because to the best of the lad’s belief it must have been half an hour before the ill-fated craft struck the rocks when he was lashed to the spar, while at the same time preparations were being made to care for the captain’s wife in similar fashion. “It is only in case anything should happen that this is being done,” Mrs. Clark said to the boy, with the evident purpose of strengthening his courage. “It may be that all will go well with us, and then you and your Fluff will only have had a little disagreeable experience.”