The Roebuck had been built, under the direction of Captain McClintock, for the voyage around Cape Horn.  She was a new vessel, and of extra strength, and she held together in spite of the hard thumping she received on the rocks.  As she struck, a hole was knocked in her bottom; but her bow had been forced so far up on the rocks that the water which she made all settled aft.

With tender care Noddy had wrapped up his frail companion in a pea jacket he found in the forecastle, and together they waited anxiously for the morning light.  The waves beat fiercely against the side of the vessel, pounded on the decks as they rolled over the bulwarks; and the survivors were in continual fear that each moment would witness the destruction of their ark of safety.  Noddy had made the best arrangements he could for a speedy exit, in case the worst should be realized.

With the first signs of daylight Noddy was on deck endeavoring to obtain a better knowledge of the location of the wreck.  It seemed to him then that the force of the gale had abated, though the sea was hardly less savage than it had been during the night.  As the day dawned, he discovered the outline of some dark object, apparently half a mile distant.  He watched this sombre pile till there was light enough to satisfy him that it was an island.

“Hurrah!” shouted Noddy, ­forgetting, in the joy of this discovery, that death and destruction had reigned on board the Roebuck.

“What is it?” asked Mollie, hardly moved by the gladness of her companion.

“Land ho!” replied he, as he descended the ladder to the forecastle.

“Where is it?” said she, languidly, as though she did not feel much interested in the announcement.

“Right over here, about half a mile off.”

“It might as well be a thousand miles off; for we can never get there.”

“O, yes, we can.  We have the boat on deck.  I’m afraid you are discouraged, Mollie.”

“I can’t help thinking of poor father,” said she, bursting into tears again.

Noddy comforted her as well as he could.  He told her she ought not to repine at the will of God, who had saved her, though he had permitted her father to be lost; that she ought to be grateful for her own preservation; and, what seemed to be the strongest argument to him, that weeping and “taking on” would do no good.  He was but a poor comforter, and only repeated what he had often heard her say in the dark hours of their former tribulation.  Her father was dead, and she could not help weeping.  Whatever were his faults, and however great had been the error which had brought her to the present extremity, he was her father.  In his sober days he had loved her tenderly and devotedly; and it seemed like sacrilege to her to dry the tears which so readily and so freely flowed.  They were the natural tribute of affection from a child to a lost parent.

Noddy did not dare to say all he believed, for he was convinced that the death of the captain was a blessing to himself and to his daughter.  He was so besotted by the demon that life could henceforth be only a misery to him, and a stumbling-block to her.  It required no great faith for him to believe, in the present instance, that the good Father doeth all things well.

The daylight came, and with it the hope of brighter hours.  The clouds were breaking away, and the winds subsided almost as suddenly as they had risen.  Still the waves broke fiercely over the wreck, and it was impossible to take any steps towards reaching the land, whose green hills and bright valleys gladdened the heart of the storm-tossed sailor-boy.  With an axe which he found in the forecastle, he knocked away a couple of the planks of the bulkhead which divided the seamen’s quarters from the hold.  He passed through, by moving a portion of the miscellaneous cargo, to the cabin, where he obtained some water, some ship bread, and boiled beef.

Poor Mollie had no appetite; but to please her anxious friend, she ate half a biscuit.  They passed the forenoon in the forecastle, talking of the past and the future; but the thoughts of the bereaved daughter continually reverted to her father.  She talked of him; of what he had been to her, and of the bright hopes which she had cherished of the future.  She was positive she should never be happy again.  After much persuasion, Noddy induced her to lie down in one of the bunks, and being thoroughly exhausted by anxiety and the loss of rest, she went to sleep, which gave her patient friend a great deal of satisfaction.

She slept, and Noddy went on deck again.  The waves had now subsided, so that he could go aft.  He found that the jolly-boat was gone from the stern davits.  At first he supposed it had been washed away by the heavy sea; but a further examination convinced him that it had been lowered by the men.  It was possible, if not probable, the crew had taken to the boat, and he might find them on the island, or a portion of them, for it was hardly to be expected that the whole crew had escaped.

From the deck he went below.  He had anticipated that the fall of the tide would enable him to enter the state-room of the captain; but there was no perceptible change in the height of the water.  In this locality the whole range of the tide was not more than a foot.  There were many things which might be of great value to Mollie, if they ever escaped from this region, and he was anxious to save them for her use.  The captain had a considerable sum of money in gold and silver.  The cabin-boy, knowing where it was, set himself at work to obtain it.  He was obliged to dive several times before he succeeded; but at last he brought it up, and deposited it in the safest place he could find.

Other articles of value were saved in the same manner, including the captain’s chronometer and sextant, the sad neglect of which had caused the terrible disaster.  Towards night a change in the wind “knocked down” the sea, and the waves no longer dashed against the shattered vessel.  The galley had been washed away; but the boat on deck, though thrown from the blocks, was still uninjured; and Noddy was sorely perplexed to find a means of getting it overboard.  It was too late, and he was too tired to accomplish anything that night.

Mollie was awake when he went to the forecastle again; and rest and refreshment had made her more cheerful and more hopeful.  She spoke with greater interest of the future, and dwelt less mournfully on the sad event which had made her an orphan.  Noddy told her his plans for the morrow; that he intended to launch the long-boat, and visit the island the next day; that he would build a house for her; and that they would be happy there till some passing whaler picked them up.  The tired boy, now secure of life, went to sleep.  His fair companion wept again, as she thought of the pleasant days when her father had been a joy to every hour of her existence; but she, too, went to sleep, with none to watch over her but the good Father who had saved her in all the perils through which she had passed.

The sun rose clear and bright the next morning, and Noddy went on deck to prepare their simple breakfast.  He had constructed a fireplace of iron plates, and he boiled some water to make tea.  Mollie soon joined him; and sad as she still was, she insisted that the cooking was her duty.  She performed it, while Noddy employed himself in devising some plan by which, with his feeble powers, he could hoist the heavy boat into the water.  The bulwarks had been partially stove on one side, and he cleared away the wreck till there was nothing to obstruct the passage of the boat over the side.

They sat down on the deck to eat their breakfast; and during the meal Noddy was very quiet and thoughtful.  Occasionally he cast his eyes up at the rigging over their heads.  Mollie could not help looking at him.  She had a great admiration for him; he had been so kind to her, and so brave and cheerful in the discharge of the duties which the awful catastrophe imposed upon him.  Besides, he was her only friend ­her only hope now.

“What are you thinking about, Noddy?” asked she, perplexed by his unusually meditative mood.

“I was thinking how I should get the boat into the water.”

“You can’t get it into the water.  What can a small boy like you do with a great boat like that?”

“I think I can manage it somehow.”

“I am afraid not.”

“Don’t give it up, Mollie; our salvation depends on that boat.  I found out something more, when I went aloft this morning.”

“What?”

“There is another island off here to the northward, just as far as you can see.  We may wish to go there, and the boat would be wanted then.”

“Noddy, perhaps there are savages on those islands, who will kill us if we go on shore.”

“Two can play at that game,” replied Noddy, in his confident tone.

“What could a boy like you do against a mob of Indians?”

“There are two or three pistols in the cabin, and I think I know how to use them; at any rate I shall not be butchered, nor let you be, without showing them what I am made of,” answered Noddy, as he rose from the planks, and turned his attention once more to the moving of the boat.

“You wouldn’t shoot them ­would you?”

“Not if I could help it.  I shouldn’t want to shoot them; and I won’t do it, if they behave themselves.  But I must go to work on the boat now.”

“Let me help you, Noddy, I am real strong, and I can do a great deal.”

“I will tell you when you can help me, Mollie, for I may need a little assistance.”

“I don’t see how you are going to do this job.”

“I will show you in a moment,” replied Noddy, as he ran up the main shrouds.

He carried a small hatchet in his belt, with which he detached the starboard fore-brace from the mast.  This was a rope, the end of which was tied to the main-mast, and extended through a single sheaf-block at the starboard fore-yard-arm.  After passing through this block, the brace returned to the main-mast, passed through another block, and led down upon the deck.  There was another rope of the same kind on the port side of the vessel.  They were used to swing round the yard, in order to place the sail so that it would draw in the wind.

When Noddy cut it loose, the brace dropped to the deck.  It was now simply a rope passing through a single block at the end of the yard.  The little engineer made fast one end of the brace to the ring in the bow of the boat.  He then unhooked the peak halliards of the fore-sail, and attached them to the ring in the stern of the boat.  Now, if he had had the strength, he would have pulled on the yard-arm rope till he dragged the bow out over the water; the stern line being intended merely to steady the boat, if necessary, and keep it from jamming against the mast.  When he had drawn the bow out as far as he could with the brace, he meant to attach the same rope to the stern, and complete the job.

“That’s all very pretty,” said Mollie, who had carefully noticed all her companion’s proceedings; “but you and I can’t hoist the boat up with that rigging.”

“I know that, Mollie,” replied Noddy, wiping the perspiration from his brow.  “I haven’t done yet.”

“I am afraid you won’t make out, Noddy.”

“Yes, I shall.  Work and win; that’s the idea.”

“You are working very hard, and I hope you will win.”

“Did you know I made an improvement on Miss Bertha’s maxim?”

“Indeed!  What?”

“He that works shall win.”

“That’s very encouraging; but it isn’t always true.”

“It is when you work in the right way,” answered Noddy, as he took the end of the yard-arm rope, and, after passing it through a snatch-block, began to wind it around the barrel of the small capstan on the forecastle.

“Perhaps you haven’t got the right way.”

“If I haven’t I shall try again, and keep trying till I do get it,” replied Noddy, as he handed Mollie the end of the rope which he had wound four times round the capstan.  “Do you think you can hold this rope and take in the slack?”

“I am afraid there will not be any to take in; but I can hold it, if there is,” said she, satirically, but without even a smile.

Noddy inserted one of the capstan bars, and attempted to “walk round;” but his feeble powers were not sufficient to move the boat a single inch.  He tightened up the rope, and that was all he could accomplish.

“I was afraid you could not stir it,” said Mollie; but her tones were full of sympathy for her companion in his disappointment.

He struggled in vain for a time; but it required a little more engineering to make the machinery move.  Taking a “gun-tackle purchase,” or “tackle and fall,” as it is called on shore, he attached one hook to the extreme end of the capstan bar, and the other to the rail.  This added power accomplished the work; and he made the capstan revolve with ease, though the business went on very slowly.  He was obliged to shift back the bar four times for every revolution of the barrel.  But the boat moved forward, and that was success.  He persevered, and skill and labor finally accomplished the difficult task.  The boat floated in the water alongside the wreck.  He had worked; he had won.