Five minutes passed, and then she saw a boat lowered and manned.  The oars were got out, and presently it was backing water within ten paces of her.

“Go round there,” she called, pointing to the little bay, “and I will meet you.”

By the time that she had got to the spot the boat was already beached, and a tall, thin, kindly-faced man was addressing her in an unmistakable Yankee accent, “Cast away, Miss?” he said interrogatively.

“Yes,” gasped Augusta; “we are the survivors of the Kangaroo, which sank in a collision with a whaler about a week ago.”

“Ah!” said the captain, “with a whaler?  Then I guess that’s where my consort has gone to.  She’s been missing about a week, and I put in here to see if I could get upon her tracks—­also to fill up with water.  Well, she was well insured, anyway, and when last we spoke her, she had made a very poor catch.  But perhaps, Miss, you will, at your convenience, favour me with a few particulars?”

Accordingly, Augusta sketched the history of their terrible adventure in as few words as possible; and the tale was one that made even the phlegmatic Yankee captain stare.  Then she took him, followed by the crew, to the hut where Meeson lay dead, and to the other hut, where she and Dick had slept upon the previous night.

“Wall, Miss,” said the captain, whose name was Thomas, “I guess that you and the youngster will be almost ready to vacate these apartments; so, if you please, I will send you off to the ship, the Harpoon—­that’s her name—­of Norfolk, in the United States.  You will find her well flavoured with oil, for we are about full to the hatches; but, perhaps, under the circumstances, you will not mind that.  Anyway, my Missus, who is aboard—­having come the cruise for her health—­and who is an Englishwoman like you, will do all she can to make you comfortable.  And I tell you what it is, Miss; if I was in any way pious, I should just thank the Almighty that I happened to see that there bit of a flag with my spyglass as I was sailing along the coast at sun-up this morning, for I had no intention of putting in at this creek, but at one twenty miles along.  And now, Miss, if you’ll go aboard, some of us will stop and just tuck up the dead gentleman as well as we can.”

Augusta thanked him from her heart, and, going into the hut, got her hat and the roll of sovereigns which had been Mr. Meeson’s, but which he had told her to take, leaving the blankets to be brought by the men.

Then two of the sailors got into the little boat belonging to the Kangaroo, in which Augusta had escaped, and rowed her and Dick away from that hateful shore to where the whaler—­a fore-and-aft-schooner—­was lying at anchor.  As they drew near, she saw the rest of the crew of the Harpoon, among whom was a woman, watching their advent from the deck, who, when she got her foot upon the companion ladder, one and all set up a hearty cheer.  In another moment