"If you will keep the cutter just without the breakers, Mr. Effingham,"
Captain Truck continued, after standing up a while and examining the
shore, "I will pull into the channel, and land in yonder bay. If you feel
disposed to follow, you may do so by giving the tiller to Mr. Blunt, on
receiving a signal to that effect from me. Be steady, gentlemen, at your
oars, and look well to the arms on landing, for we are in a knavish part
of the world. Should any of the monkeys or ouran-outangs claim kindred
with Mr. Saunders, we may find it no easy matter to persuade them to leave
us the pleasure of his society."

The captain made a sign, and the jolly-boat entered the channel. Inclining
south, it was seen rising and falling just within the breakers, and then
it was hid by the rocks. In another minute, Mr. Truck, followed by all but
Mr. Monday, who stood sentinel at the boat, was on the rocks, making his
way towards the wreck. On reaching the latter, he ascended swiftly even to
the main cross-trees. Here a long examination of the plain, beyond the
bank that hid it from the view of all beneath, succeeded, and then the
signal to come on was made to those who were still in the boat.

"Shall we venture?" cried Paul Blunt, soliciting an assent by the very
manner in which he put the question.

"What say you, dear father?"

"I hope we may not yet be too late to succour some Christian in distress,
my child. Take the tiller, Mr. Blunt, and in Heaven's good name, and for
humanity's sake, let us proceed!"

The boat advanced, Paul Blunt standing erect to steer, his ardour to