The loss of Mark and Frank made Sam, Darry and Professor Strong feel much downcast and even Hockley went around looking very sober. “I never dreamed that such a dreadful thing would happen,” said Darry, and there were tears in his eyes. “I declare, if they don’t turn up I’m going right back home.” “And I am with you,” answered Sam. “To go sight-seeing without them would make me sick.” “And think of their fathers being at St. Pierre ready to welcome them,” went on Darry. “That makes it ten times worse.” And Sam agreed that it did. The loss of their chums cast a gloom over them impossible to dispel. CHAPTER XXVI THE LUMBER RAFT Let us go back and find out what really did become of Mark and Frank at the time the _Vendee_ was struck in the darkness of the storm by the Dutch lumber vessel. As the French steamer listed to port the chums caught at the railing before them. But this was wet and slippery and in an instant Frank found himself over the side. “Help!” he screamed, but the cry was drowned out in the roar of the elements around him. Mark made a clutch at him, but he, too, was carried overboard. With clasped hands the two boys struck the water and went down and down, they knew not whither. The accident had occurred so quickly that both were completely bewildered, and it was purely by instinct that each closed his mouth to keep out the briny element. The waves leaped and foamed all around them, and Mark felt something scrape his shoulder, he could not tell what, although long after he concluded it must have been the side of the steamer. Just what occurred during the five minutes that followed it would be hard to describe. The boys clung to each other, bound to live or die together. Even in that awful moment the thought of separating was still more terrifying. Occasionally they saw a light, but soon these were lost to view, and they found themselves in the blackness of the night, alone. “Frank, are you--you alive?” Such were the first words spoken between the pair. “Ye--yes,” came with a gasp. “Ho--how are we going to get back to the--the steamer?” “I don’t know. I can’t see the vessel anywhere, can you?” As the waves carried them upward they gazed around eagerly. Not a light was anywhere. “The steamer has gone on--we are deserted!” cried Mark, and his heart sank like a lump of lead in his bosom. “Oh, don’t say that,” returned Frank. “Surely, they won’t leave us to drown!” A period of silence ensued. Then Frank felt something sheer up alongside of him. He put out a hand and felt a stick of wood--one washed overboard from the lumber craft. “A log!” he cried. “Catch hold, Mark!” Mark was willing enough and they caught hold of the log, to find that it was fastened with a short chain to a number of other logs. Not without difficulty they crawled to the top of the crude raft. “Where did this come from?” queried Frank. “Do you suppose they threw it overboard for us?”