“Ay—­friend! humph!” said old Roy softly to himself.

“My dear—­child!” said young Roy, paternally, to the girl as he grasped her hand.  “I cannot tell you how thankful I am that this has been brought about, and—­and that I have had some little hand in it.”

“There’s more than pumice floating about in the sea, sir,” said Mr. Moor, coming aft at the moment and speaking to the captain in a low tone.  “You’d better send the young lady below—­or get some one to take up her attention just now.”

“Here, Nigel.  Sit down under the lee of the companion, an’ tell Kathy how this all came about,” said the captain, promptly, as if issuing nautical orders.  “I want you here, Van der Kemp.”

So saying, the captain, followed by the hermit, went with the second mate to the place where the flaming tar-barrel was casting a lurid glare upon the troubled sea.

CHAPTER XXVII.

“BLOWN TO BITS.”

The sight that met their eyes was well calculated to shock and sadden men of much less tender feeling than Van der Kemp and Captain Roy.

The water had assumed an appearance of inky blackness, and large masses of pumice were floating past, among which were numerous dead bodies of men, women, and children, intermingled with riven trees, fences, and other wreckage from the land, showing that the two great waves which had already passed under the vessel had caused terrible devastation on some parts of the shore.  To add to the horror of the scene large sea-snakes were seen swimming wildly about, as if seeking to escape from the novel dangers that surrounded them.

The sailors looked on in awe-stricken silence for some time.

“P’raps some of ’em may be alive yet!” whispered one.  “Couldn’t we lower a boat?”

“Impossible in such a sea,” said the captain, who overheard the remark.  “Besides, no life could exist there.”

“Captain Roy,” said Van der Kemp earnestly, “let me advise you to get your foresail ready to hoist at a moment’s notice, and let them stand by to cut the cable.”

“Why so?  There seems no need at present for such strong measures.”

“You don’t understand volcanoes as I do,” returned the hermit.  “This lull will only last until the imprisoned fires overcome the block in the crater, and the longer it lasts the worse will be the explosion.  From my knowledge of the coast I feel sure that we are close to the town of Anjer.  If another wave like the last comes while we are here, it will not slip under your brig like the last one.  It will tear her from her anchor and hurl us all to destruction.  You have but one chance; that is, to cut the cable and run in on the top of it—­a poor chance at the best, but if God wills, we shall escape.”

“If we are indeed as near shore as you think,” said the captain, “I know what you say must be true, for in shoal water such a wave will surely carry all before it.  But are you certain there will be another explosion?”