quarter-deck of the Swash, that neither Spike nor the Mexican had the least idea what it was.  When the circumstance was reported to the former, he answered that it was probably some small wrecker, of which many were hovering about the reef, and added, laughingly, though in a way to prove how little he thought seriously on the subject at all, “who knows but the light-house boat has fallen into their hands, and that they’ve made sail on her; if they have, my word for it, that she goes, hull, spars, rigging, canvas, and cargo, all in a lump, for salvage.”

As the brig came out of the passage, in broad day, the heads of the schooner’s masts were seen, as a matter of course.  This induced Spike to heave-to, lower a boat, and to go in person to examine the condition of the wreck.  It will be seen that Jack’s presence could now be all the better dispensed with.  The examination, with the soundings, and other calculations connected with raising the vessel, occupied hours.  When they were completed, Spike returned on board, run up his boat, and squared away for the Dry Tortugas.  Senor Montefalderon confirmed the justice of Jack Tier’s surmises, as to the object of this unexpected visit.  The brig had come solely for the chain and anchor mentioned, and having secured them, it was Spike’s intention to get under way and beat up to the wreck again as soon as the moon rose.  As for the sloop-of-war, he believed she had given him up; for by this time she must know that she had no chance with the brig, so long as the latter kept near the reef, and that she ran the constant hazard of shipwreck, while playing so near the dangers herself.

Before the Senor Montefalderon exhausted all he had to communicate, he was interrupted by Jack Tier with a singular proposition.  Jack’s great desire was to get on board the Swash; and he now begged the Mexican to let Mulford take the yawl and scull him off to the brig, and return to the islet before Spike and his companions should descend from the lantern of the light-house.  The little fellow insisted there was sufficient time for such a purpose, as the three in the lantern had not yet succeeded in filling the lamps with the oil necessary to their burning for a night—­a duty that usually occupied the regular keeper for an hour.  Five or six minutes would suffice for him; and if he were seen going up the brig’s side, it would be easy for him to maintain that he had come ashore in the boat.  No one took such precise note of what was going on; as to be able to contradict him; and as to Spike and the men with him, they would probably never hear anything about it.