"Then I am not mistaken," he exclaimed. "I have been watching it for some time, and as the waves have become less violent, it seemed to shine out; but I was afraid that after all I might be deluding myself by raising such a hope of assistance, for, as you know, our guide Hassan has been seeing land all day, which, unfortunately for us, only existed in his imagination."
"He is asleep," I responded; "we will watch this light together, and when we get near to it, then he can be awakened if necessary." We slowly drew closer and closer to the flame, and then we thought that we could discern before us the mast of a vessel, from which the light seemed to be hung out into the air. At last we were sufficiently near to clearly distinguish the mast, which was evidently rising from out of the sea, for the hull of the vessel was not apparent to us, even when we were cast close to it.
"A wreck!" cried Denviers, leaning over the prow of our boat. "We were not the only ones who suffered from the effects of the driving storm." Then pointing a little to the east of the mast, he continued:—
"There is land at last, for the tops of several of several trees are plainly to be seen." I looked eastward as he spoke, and then back again to the mast of the vessel.
"We have been seen by those clinging yonder," I exclaimed. "There is a man evidently signalling to us to save him." Denviers scanned the mast before us, and replied:—
"A strange being."
"There is only one man clinging there, Harold. What a strange being he is—look!" Clinging to the rigging with one hand, a man, who was perfectly black and almost clothless, could be seen holding aloft towards us a blazing torch, the glare of which fell full upon his face.
"We must save him," said Denviers, "but I'm afraid there will be some difficulty in doing so. Wake Hassan as quickly as you can." I roused the Arab, and when he scanned the face and form of the apparently wrecked man he said, in a puzzled tone:—
"Sahibs, the man looks like a Papuan, but we are far too distant from their land for that to be so."
"The mast and ropes seem to me to be very much weather-beaten," I interposed, as the light showed them clearly. "Why, the wreck is an old one!"
"Jump!" cried Denviers, at that moment, to the man clinging to the rigging, just as the waters, with a swirl, sent us past the ship. The watcher flung his blazing torch into the waves, and the hiss of the brand was followed by a splash in the sea. The holder of it had dived from the rigging and directly after reappeared and clambered into our boat, saved from death, as we thought—little knowing the fell purpose for which he had been stationed to hold out the flaring torch as a welcoming beacon to be seen afar by any vessel in distress. I glanced at the dangerous ring of coral reef round the island on which the ship had once struck, and then looked at the repulsive islander, who sat gazing at us with a savage leer. Although somewhat resembling a Papuan, as Hassan had said, we were soon destined to know what he really was, for the Arab, who had been glancing narrowly and suspiciously at the man, whispered to us cautiously:—
