“It is not likely,” said Professor Strong. “Or, if they do, it will not be for many years. In my opinion the whole north end of Martinique will be abandoned, for there is no telling how soon Mont Pelee will belch forth again.” It was not long after this that they passed the wreckage of a French sailing vessel which had been burnt near to the north shore of St. Pierre. Another boat was at hand, transferring such of the cargo as remained undamaged. “I wonder what craft that is?” said Frank. “It looks something like a boat we saw in the harbor of Havana.” “She is from Havana,” said a Frenchman, who was at hand, working. “The _Raven_, Captain Sudlip.” “Captain Sudlip!” came from several of the boys. “Was his full name Jason Sudlip?” questioned Professor Strong, with equal interest. “Yes. Then you knew him?” “We did. But we didn’t know he was captain of a schooner like this.” “It was a new command for him. At the last moment the regular captain of the _Raven_ was taken sick and Captain Sudlip took his place. Poor fellow, it was a fatal trip for him.” “Is Captain Sudlip dead?” questioned Darry. “Not dead, but horribly burnt. They have taken him to the hospital at Roseau, on the island of Dominica, but the doctors say he cannot live.” The Frenchman resumed his work, and the craft containing our friends moved off down the coast. For some minutes nobody spoke. Then Darry heaved a long sigh. “It’s horrible!” he murmured. “Horrible! Captain Sudlip wasn’t our friend, but I pity him.” “And so do I pity him,” put in Sam. “I trust his case isn’t as bad as reported.” This was all that was said, but nobody forgot the matter until a long time after. It may be as well to state here that the captain was in a very bad way and that he died inside of the week. It was utterly impossible to think of going ashore at St. Pierre, and fearful of another eruption which might cost them their lives, Professor Strong procured passage on a little ferry steamer which had formerly run regularly between the fallen city and Fort de France. Turning southward again made the hearts of Mark and Frank sink like lead within their bosoms. Their thoughts were constantly on their parents. “I can’t give my father up--I simply can’t!” said Frank to his chum, in a choking voice. “It’s too awful to think of!” “I feel exactly the same, Frank,” answered the older youth. “But what more can we do?” “I am going to make more inquiries when we reach Fort de France.” “Oh, I shall do that, too.” On the way down the coast they fell in with many vessels, all going to St. Pierre to give aid to those who, alas, were beyond human needs. These craft moved along silently, nobody feeling in the humor to even discuss the situation.