sea-weed on his fire, in a way to cause the flames to flash up, as if kindled anew by gunpowder.  It now occurred to Tier that the young man had a double object in lighting this fire, which would answer not only the purposes of his cookery, but as a signal of distress to anything passing near.  The sloop-of-war, though more distant than the brig, was in his neighbourhood; and she might possibly yet send relief.  Such was the state of things when Jack was startled by a sudden hail from below.  It was Spike’s voice, and came up to him short and quick.

“Fore-topmast cross-trees, there!  What are ye about all this time, Master Jack Tier, in them fore-topmast cross-trees, I say?” demanded Spike.

“Keeping a look-out for boats from the sloop-of-war, as you bade me, sir,” answered Jack, coolly.

“D’ye see any, my man?  Is the water clear ahead of us, or not?”

“It’s getting to be so dark, sir, I can see no longer.  While there was day-light, no boat was to be seen.”

“Come down, man—­come down; I’ve business for you below.  The sloop is far enough to the nor’ard, and we shall neither see nor hear from her to-night.  Come down, I say, Jack—­come down.”

Jack obeyed, and securing the glass, he began to descend the rigging.  He was soon as low as the top, when he paused a moment to take another look.  The fire was still visible, shining like a torch on the surface of the water, casting its beams abroad like “a good deed in a naughty world.”  Jack was sorry to see it, though he once more took its bearing from the brig, in order that he might know where to find the spot, in the event of a search for it.  When on the stretcher of the fore-rigging, Jack stopped and again looked for his beacon.  It had disappeared, having sunk below the circular formation of the earth.  By ascending two or three ratlins, it came into view, and by going down as low as the stretcher again, it disappeared.  Trusting that no one, at that hour, would have occasion to go aloft, Jack now descended to the deck, and went aft with the spy-glass.

Spike and the Senor Montefalderon were under the coach-house, no one else appearing on any part of the quarter-deck.  The people were eating their suppers, and Josh and Simon were busy in the galley.  As for the females, they chose to remain in their own cabin, where Spike was well pleased to leave them.

“Come this way, Jack,” said the captain, in his best-humoured tone of voice, “I’ve a word to say to you.  Put the glass in at my state-room window, and come hither.”

Tier did as ordered.

“So you can make out no boats to the nor’ard, ha, Jack! nothing to be seen thereaway?”

“Nothing in the way of a boat, sir.”

“Ay, ay, I dare say there’s plenty of water, and some rock.  The Florida Reef has no scarcity of either, to them that knows where to look for one, and to steer clear of the other.  Hark’e, Jack; so you got the schooner under way from the Dry Tortugas, and undertook to beat her up to Key West, when she fancied herself a turtle, and over she went with you—­is that it, my man?”