With very little difficulty the opening in the reef was found, and a boat lowered and rowed into the lagoon, where the lead was lowered several times but no bottom found.

Returning to the ship sail was made again, and they went round to the north-west so as to prove that this was the reef by finding the opening which led into Crater Bay.

Sure enough the opening was found, and the boat once more lowered to investigate and find that the coral-reef still spread out like a barrier, but the coral insects were dead, and as they investigated farther it was to find that there was not a single sh.e.l.l-fish of any kind living in the shoal water, nor any trace of life, but on the highest part of the bleached white coral there were a few blocks of blackish-grey vesicular or cindery-looking stone.

"Gone?" said Mark, as he sat in the boat, "you think it's gone?" and he looked down with a feeling of awe.

"Yes," said the captain; "gone as rapidly as no doubt it once rose from the sea."

"But where was Crater Bay?"

"Here where you are seated," said the captain. "Shall we try the depth?"

"No," said Mark with a slight shiver; "it seems too awful. But do you really feel sure, father, that our wonderfully beautiful island has sunk down here?"

"I have no doubt of it, my boy," replied the captain. "The eruption was awful, and the island was literally blown up, and its fragments sank beneath the waves. What do you say, Gregory?"

"That's it," said the mate.

"And all those lovely palms and ferns, Mark," said Morgan, laying his hand upon Mark's arm.

"And I used to feel as if I should like to live there always," said Mark with a sigh. "Let's get back to the ship."

The captain gave another glance round, sweeping the surface of the lagoon inclosed by the irregular ring of coral, and then gave orders for their return to the ship.

While the men rowed back Mark tried to picture the scene as it last met his eyes; but turned from the contemplation with a shudder; and it was with a sigh of relief that he once more felt the firm planks of the deck beneath his feet.

"And you mean to tell me," said Billy Widgeon, as he stroked and patted his monkey's head one evening during the homeward voyage--"you mean to tell me, Mr Small, as that there island sank outer sight and is all gone?"

"That's it, Billy," replied the boatswain.

"But it'll come up again, won't it?" said the stowaway.

"That's more than anybody can tell, my lad," said Small. "All I know is as she's gone, and we're going back home. And a good job too."

Mark Strong heard these words; and as he sat on the deck that night, beneath the cl.u.s.tering stars, with Bruff's head in his lap, he too began to think it was a good job they were going home, for his perilous voyaging was drawing to a close, and that solitary sunlit island that shone like a green jewel out of the purple sea was beginning to seem to him as if it had never been.

"Thinking, Mark, my lad?" said a voice at his elbow.

"Yes, father," said the lad, starting.

"What about?"

"The Island, and Mother Carey's Chicken."

THE END.