“Miss Howland!” he exclaimed.  The sound of his voice echoed hollow along the deck, but it was the most joyous sound Virginia had ever heard.  Leaning down, he assisted her to her feet.  Their eyes met, and they gazed at each other, wondering, uncertain.  Alone of all the world, these two, in the midst of a vast, lonely domain where hidden terrors lurk, where elements unharness their might and work their harm unchecked, where wind and wave whisper of murderous deeds, where the rime of dead ages is still fresh.  It was all too big for minds to encompass, for their senses to grasp.

A great sob shook the girl.

“Will—­will you please go away—­a moment?  I think I am going to cry,” she stammered.  She turned from him hurriedly and walked toward the rail.  She tottered as though about to fall.  Dan sprang to her side and placed his hand lightly on her arm.  The touch seemed to strengthen her.  With a convulsive effort she gained control of herself, and as Dan’s hand dropped to his side she looked at him with a quivering smile.

“I am going to be brave.  I am not going to cry.  Captain, tell me, is my father safe, and my aunt—­and the rest?”

“There is not the slightest question about that,” replied Dan.  “They got overboard smartly.  The lifeboats were steel, well manned and supplied with provisions for a week.  If they weren’t picked up last night by some steamship attracted by the fire, they will be within a short time.”  The girl regarded him closely, as though trying to determine whether he was speaking from conviction or merely to dissipate her fears.  Interpreting her expression, Dan shook his head impatiently.

“I am sincere, Miss Howland.  I have no more doubt of the safety of your father and the others than I have that I am alive.  The sea has been comparatively smooth, the weather clear.  Our situation is the one to bother about.”

“But some steamship will surely see us.”

“I hope so, but remember we are on a derelict.  Where we are, or where we are going heaven only knows.  Sometimes—­there is no sense in trying to avoid the truth—­derelicts go for weeks and even months without being sighted.  Still, I don’t think we shall.  At night we’ll have our distress lights.  We shall come out all right.  In the meantime we may not even have to be uncomfortable.  Usually when men desert these schooners they go in a hurry, leaving almost everything behind.  I am going to investigate affairs.  Will you come?  You may never have another opportunity of this sort.”

Dan’s voice, at first grave, had gradually assumed a lighter tone, and at the humorous allusion in the last sentence she smiled.  Virginia was a sensible girl, but it must be confessed that her position alone with a man on a derelict in the middle of nowhere would have dazed a woman who held even broader views of the ordinary conventions than she did.

As for the Captain, he evidently intended to accept the inevitable in a matter-of-fact, common-sense way.  There was nothing for her but to do likewise.  That he would be tactful and considerate in every way she knew.  And he would save her too, in the end.  Something seemed to tell her that.  She smiled at him bravely.