The whaler's bow grounded on the beach, and, making our way with difficulty through the debris that lined the seaward side of the grove, we selected a couple of young palm-trees. These were felled and cut to lengths of twenty feet, and the rungs firmly fastened, making a serviceable ladder. This we towed behind the boat, and on landing on the rock we scaled the perpendicular height with comparative ease. The ladder was then hauled up and placed against the towering, weed-covered sides of the "San Philipo," and, led by my father, we all ascended and gained the deck of the wreck. "Be careful, sir," cautioned the bos'n; "the deck may be rotten in places." "All right, Mr. Wilkins," replied my father. "I see the divers have been hard at work, for the waist has practically been cleared." But before attempting to go below, my father made his way aft, and, clambering cautiously over the successive breaks of the tiers of decks, reached the towering poop. Here the stump of the mizzen-mast still projected a couple of feet above the deck, while a litter of rotten rope trailed across the poop from the mizzen chains, and a rusty mass of iron alone remained to denote what had at one time been the three poop lanterns. It was not, however, to this scene of desolation that my father's attention was directed. From the commanding position we had, for the first time, a complete view of the results of the upheaval, and to our consternation we found that the lagoon was converted into a land-locked sheet of water, huge rocks forming a massive semi-circular barrier from shore to shore. The "Fortuna" was a prisoner, and, to all intents and purposes, seemed doomed to lie within the lagoon till she rotted and sank at her moorings. The original entrance had, as I have already mentioned, been closed up by lofty masses of rock, while throughout the whole length of the newly formed reef there was not, as far as we could see, any part less than twenty feet above the level of high water. For several minutes my father stood looking at the scene with absolute dejection written on his face. It seemed as if all his hopes were shattered at one blow. "Cheer up, old fellow," said his brother sympathetically, though he, too, was keenly alive to the extent of our misfortune. "It might be worse; we've got the yacht intact, the treasure under our feet, and, what is more, our lives have been miraculously preserved." "Our lives, 'tis true. But what is the use of the treasure when the yacht is hopelessly imprisoned?" "There's a saying, 'Don't holler till you're out of the wood'; it could have very well been added: 'Don't cry till you've tried to find a way out'; so don't worry till we've made a careful exploration of the reef. I suppose people at home have read a report in the daily papers before now, a telegram from Professor Milne to the effect that a great seismic disturbance has been recorded, the probable area affected being approximately eleven thousand miles away."