It was indeed a ship, which presented itself on its side, to the starboard.  Capsized as far as the nettings, she heeled so much that it would be almost impossible to stand upon her deck.  Nothing could be seen beyond her masts.  From the port-shrouds were banging only some ends of broken rope, and the chains broken by the cloaks of white-crested waves.  On the starboard side opened a large hole between the timbers of the frame-work and the damaged planks.

“This ship has been run into,” cried Dick Sand.

“There is no doubt of that,” replied Captain Hull; “and it is a miracle that she did not sink immediately.”

“If there has been a collision,” observed Mrs. Weldon, “we must hope that the crew of this ship has been picked up by those who struck her.”

“It is to be hoped so, Mrs. Weldon,” replied Captain, Hull, “unless this crew sought refuge in their own boats after the collision, in case the colliding vessel should sail right on—­which, alas! sometimes happens.”

“Is it possible?  That would be a proof of very great inhumanity, Mr. Hull.”

“Yes, Mrs. Weldon.  Yes! and instances are not wanting.  As to the crew of this ship, what makes me believe that it is more likely they have left it, is that I do not see a single boat; and, unless the men on board have been picked up, I should be more inclined to think that they have tried to roach the land.  But, at this distance from the American continent, or from the islands of Oceanica, it is to be feared that they have not succeeded.”

“Perhaps,” said Mrs. Weldon, “we shall never know the secret of this catastrophe.  Meanwhile, it might be possible that some man of the crew is still on board.”

“That is not probable, Mrs. Weldon,” replied Captain Hull.  “Our approach would be already known, and they would make some signals to us.  But we shall make sure of it.—­Luff a little, Bolton, luff,” cried Captain Hull, while indicating with his hand what course to take.

The “Pilgrim” was now only three cables’ length from the wreck, and they could no longer doubt that this hull had been completely abandoned by all its crew.

But, at that moment, Dick Sand made a gesture which imperiously demanded silence.

“Listen, listen!” said he.

Each listened.

“I hear something like a bark!” cried Dick Sand.  In fact, a distant barking resounded from the interior of the hull.  Certainly there was a living dog there, imprisoned perhaps, for it was possible that the hatches were hermetically closed.  But they could not see it, the deck of the capsized vessel being still invisible.

“If there be only a dog there, Mr. Hull,” said Mrs.  “Weldon,” we shall save it.”

“Yes, yes!” cried little Jack, “we shall save it.  I shall give it something to eat!  It will love us well!  Mama, I am going to bring it a piece of sugar!”

“Stay still, my child,” replied Mrs. Weldon smiling.  “I believe that the poor animal is dying of hunger, and it will prefer a good mess to your morsel of sugar.”