"Had we not better lie to till morning; may there not yet be some other survivor?" "Not a chance. I have pulled round the whole spot over and over again. We have done all we can do. Lay her head again for Delagoa Bay," replied Captain Weber, as he went below, and so the yards were braced round, the courses sheeted home, the royals once more set, and with a fair wind the brig found herself, when morning dawned, seventy miles from the scene of the late disaster. The horizon was clear, not a sail being in sight; the whistling of the wind, the scream of the gulls, which were now wheeling round the brig, showing the proximity to land, those and the whish of the breaking wave being the only noises heard. The decks had been holystoned, the sailors were busy coiling down spare ropes or cleaning the brasswork, which was already as bright as could be, and the regular step of the officer of the watch could be heard as he paced the quarter-deck by those below. The party in the cabin consisted of Captain Weber, his first officer, his passenger, and the master of the "Argonaut," the ship which had been burned at sea the previous night. Of the whole crew the captain and one seaman only had been saved. Sad enough he looked as he sat at the well-furnished breakfast-table, his hair singed with fire, and his right arm in a sling. "We were bound for England, and our cargo consisted of five hundred barrels of naphtha," he said, in reply to a question addressed to him by the first officer of the "Halcyon." "Why were you lying to when we first sighted you?" asked Captain Weber, "I thought our cargo had shifted a little in the late gale, and I had been overhauling it. That night I was seated with my first mate in the cabin when a furious explosion shook the ship. I was thrown down, and how long I remained insensible I don't know. When I did come to I found myself surrounded with wreck, everything smashed, the bulkheads driven in, and the ship split in her waterway. Hardly had I realised the extent of the misfortune when the cry of fire was heard. In a moment the remainder of the naphtha was in flames, and I had hardly time to get on deck." "And the boats?" asked Captain Hughes. "Blown to chips," was the reply. "I ordered the mainmast to be cut away, but the flames were too quick for us, and all we could do was to cut adrift the mainboom. I and Miller managed to reach it. The ship was now burning fore and aft, and presently, as you saw, went down bodily, the whole of the naphtha rising to the surface in a sea of flame. I saw many of my poor fellows swim in this bath of fire. My mate and steward went down beside me. The cook had lashed himself to a piece of wreck, and for a quarter of an hour I heard his cries, then they ceased suddenly. The rest you know."