The mate did not mistake his position, for the jut of land we described in the last chapter is but a few hours’ ride from Nassau, and the houses are inhabited by wreckers.  With desponding hearts did our unfortunates approach one of the rude cabins, from the window of which a faint light glimmered, and hesitate at the door, as if doubting the reception they were about to receive.  The roaring of the beach, and the sharp whistling of the wind, as in clouds it scattered the sand through the air, drowned what sound might otherwise be heard from within.  “This cabin seems deserted,” says one, as he taps on the door a second time.  “No, that cannot be!” returns the other, peering through a small window into the barrack-like room.  It was from this window the light shone, and, being a bleak November night, a wood fire blazed on the great hearth, shedding its lurid glows over everything around.  It is the pale, saline light of wreckwood.  A large binnacle lamp, of copper, hung from the centre of the ceiling, its murky light mingling in curious contrast to the pale shadows of the wreckwood fire.  Rude chains, and chests, and boxes, and ropes, and canvas, and broken bolts of copper, and pieces of valuable wood, and various nautical relics-all indicating the trade of shipwreck, lie or stand promiscuously about the room; while in the centre is a table surrounded by chairs, some of which are turned aside, as if the occupants had just left.  Again, there may be seen hanging from the unplastered walls numerous teeth of fish, bones and jaws of sharks, fins and flukes of curious species, heads of the Floridian mamalukes, and preserved dolphins-all is interspersed here and there with coloured prints, illustrative of Jack’s leaving or returning to his favourite Mary, with a lingering farewell or fond embrace.

Louder and louder, assured of some living being within they knock at the door, until a hoarse voice rather roars than speaks-"Aye, aye! hold hard a bit!  I’se bearin’ a hand!” The sound came as if from the clouds, for not a living being was visible.  A pause followed; then suddenly a pair of dingy legs and feet descended from a small opening above the window, which, until that moment, had escaped their notice.  The sight was, indeed, not the most encouraging to weak nerves.  Clumsily lowered the legs, the feet making a ladder of cleets of wood nailed to the window, until the burly figure of the wrecker, encased with red shirt and blue trousers, stood out full to view.  Over his head stood bristly hair in jagged tufts; and as he drew his brawny hand over the broad disc of his sun-scorched face, winking and twisting his eyes in the glare, there stood boldly outlined on his features the index of his profession.  He shrugged his shoulders, gathered his nether garments quickly about him, paused as if half confused and half overjoyed, then ran to the fire-place, threw into a heap the charred wood with a long wooden poker, and sought the door, saying—­“Avast