As we came nearer, it was plain that the vessel was no whaler; but a small, two-masted craft; in short, a brigantine.  Her sails were in a state of unaccountable disarray; .only the foresail, mainsail, and jib being set.  The first was much tattered; and the jib was hoisted but half way up the stay, where it idly flapped, the breeze coming from over the taffrail.  She continually yawed in her course; now almost presenting her broadside, then showing her stern.

Striking our sails once more, we lay on our oars, and watched her in the starlight.  Still she swung from side to side, and still sailed on.

Not a little terrified at the sight, superstitious Jarl more than insinuated that the craft must be a gold-huntress, haunted.  But I told him, that if such were the case, we must board her, come gold or goblins.  In reality, however, I began to think that she must have been abandoned by her crew; or else, that from sickness, those on board were incapable of managing her.

After a long and anxious reconnoiter, we came still nearer, using our oars, but very reluctantly on Jarl’s part; who, while rowing, kept his eyes over his shoulder, as if about to beach the little Chamois on the back of a whale as of yore.  Indeed, he seemed full as impatient to quit the vicinity of the vessel, as before he had been anxiously courting it.

Now, as the silent brigantine again swung round her broadside, I hailed her loudly.  No return.  Again.  But all was silent.  With a few vigorous strokes, we closed with her, giving yet another unanswered hail; when, laying the Chamois right alongside, I clutched at the main-chains.  Instantly we felt her dragging us along.  Securing our craft by its painter, I sprang over the rail, followed by Jarl, who had snatched his harpoon, his favorite arms.  Long used with that weapon to overcome the monsters of the deep, he doubted not it would prove equally serviceable in any other encounter.

The deck was a complete litter.  Tossed about were pearl oyster shells, husks of cocoa-nuts, empty casks, and cases.  The deserted tiller was lashed; which accounted for the vessel’s yawing.  But we could not conceive, how going large before the wind; the craft could, for any considerable time, at least, have guided herself without the help of a hand.  Still, the breeze was light and steady.

Now, seeing the helm thus lashed, I could not but distrust the silence that prevailed.  It conjured up the idea of miscreants concealed below, and meditating treachery; unscrupulous mutineers—­ Lascars, or Manilla-men; who, having murdered the Europeans of the crew, might not be willing to let strangers depart unmolested.  Or yet worse, the entire ship’s company might have been swept away by a fever, its infection still lurking in the poisoned hull.  And though the first conceit, as the last, was a mere surmise, it was nevertheless deemed prudent to secure the hatches, which for the present we accordingly barred down with the oars of our boat.  This done, we went about the deck in search of water.  And finding some in a clumsy cask, drank long and freely, and to our thirsty souls’ content.