He was evidently reluctant, but sailor enough to follow as I lowered myself to the deck, clinging hard to keep my footing on the wet incline.  A light spar had lodged here, and by making this a species of bridge, we crept as far as the companion, the door of which was open, and gained view of the scene below.  The light was sufficient to reveal most of the interior.  From the confusion, and dampness the entire cabin had evidently been deluged with water, but this had largely drained away, leaving a mass of wreckage behind, and a foot or two still slushing about the doors of the after staterooms.  It was a dismal hole in the dim light, more like a cave than the former habitation of men, but presented no obstacle to our entrance, and I led the way down the stairs, gripping the rail to keep from falling.  Haines swore as he followed, and his continual growling got upon my nerves.

“Stop that infernal noise!” I ordered, shortly, looking him savagely in the face.  “I’ve had enough of it.  You were wild to come on this job; now do your work like a man.  Try that room door over there; slide down, you fool, the water isn’t deep.  Wait a minute; now give me a hand.”

“Is the gold in here, sir?” he asked with interest.

“More than likely; this was the Captain’s room.  See if it was left locked.”

The door gave, but it required our combined efforts to press it open against the volume of water, slushing about within.  While the stern port was yet slightly above the sea level, the crest of breaking waves obscured the glass, leaving the interior darker than the outer cabin.  For a moment my eyes could scarcely recognize the various objects, as I clung to the frame of the door, and stared blindly about in the gloom.  Then slowly they assumed shape and substance.  Screwed to the deck the furniture retained its place, but everything else was jammed in a mass of wreckage, or else floating about in a foot of water, deepening toward the stern.  There were two chests in the room, one of which I instantly recognized as that of Roger Fairfax.  The sight of this made me oblivious to all else, urged on as I was, by a desire to escape from the doomed wreck as soon as possible.

“There’s the chest we want Haines,” I cried, pointing it out.  “Have the lads back the boat up to this port; then come down, and help me handle it.”

He did not answer, or move; and I whirled about angrily.

“What is the matter with you?  Did you hear what I said?”

“Yes, sir,” his voice trembling, “but—­but isn’t that a man over there—­in the bunk?  Good God, sir; look at him!”

The white, ghastly face stared at us, looking like nothing human in that awful twilight.  I actually thought it a ghost, until with desperate effort, the man lifted himself, clinging with gaunt fingers to the edge of the bunk.  Then I knew.

“Sanchez!  You! those damn cowards left you here to die!”

“No one came for me,” he answered, choking so the words were scarcely intelligible.  “Is that what has happened; the bark is wrecked; the crew gone?”