Two Sailor Lads by Gordon Stables

The sun had already risen when the party once more found themselves by the beacon. Frank gazed aghast almost; for almost close to the southern beach of the island, and evidently running ashore, was a strangely dismantled old brig. It was the _Resolute_.

Her sails hung in tatters from the yards, her jibboom and foretopgallant mast had been carried away as if she had been in collision, and there was not a sign of life to be seen anywhere about her decks. She was drifting almost broadside on towards the shore, on which, long before they could possibly reach her, it was evident enough she would dash like a heap of drift wood. There was, however, no sea on, and until it came on to blow she might lie quietly enough.