breeze blowing from the N. E. The Union Jack was flying at the mizzen-mast, and a blue standard bearing the initial

k. A man came forward immediately, hatchet in hand, and approaching him cautiously, with one powerful stroke cut off his tail.This ended the business, for there was no longer any fear of the shark. But, though the sailors’ vengeance was satisfied, their curiosity was not; they knew the brute had no very delicate appetite, and the contents of his stomach might be worth investigation. This is the common practice on all ships when a shark is captured, but Lady Glenarvan declined to be present at such a disgusting exploration, and withdrew to the cabin again. The fish was still breathing; it measured ten feet in length, and weighed more than six hundred pounds. This was nothing extraordinary, for though the hammer-headed shark is not classed among the most gigantic of the species, it is always reckoned among the most formidable.The huge brute was soon ripped up in a very unceremonious fashion. The hook had fixed right in the stomach, which was found to be absolutely empty, and the disappointed sailors were just going to throw the remains overboard, when the boatswain’s attention was attracted by some large object sticking fast in one of the viscera.“I say! what’s this?” he exclaimed.“That!” replied one of the sailors, “why, it’s a piece of rock the beast swallowed by way of ballast.”“It’s just a bottle, neither more nor less, that the fellow has got in his inside, and couldn’t digest,” said another of the crew.“Hold your tongues, all of you!” said Tom Austin, the mate of the Duncan. “Don’t you see the animal has been such an inveterate tippler that he has not only drunk the wine, but swallowed the bottle?”“What!” said Lord Glenarvan. “Do you mean to say it is a bottle that the shark has got in his stomach.”“Ay, it is a bottle, most certainly,” replied the boatswain, “but not just from the cellar.”“Well, Tom, be careful how you take it out,” said Lord Glenarvan, “for bottles found in the sea often contain precious documents.”“Do you think this does?” said Major McNabbs, incredulously.“It possibly may, at any rate.”“Oh! I’m not saying it doesn’t. There may perhaps be some secret in it,” returned the Major.“That’s just what we’re to see,” said his cousin. “Well, Tom.”“Here it is,” said the mate, holding up a shapeless lump he had managed to pull out, though with some difficulty.“Get the filthy thing washed then, and bring it to the cabin.”Tom obeyed, and in a few minutes brought in the bottle and laid it on the table, at which Lord Glenarvan and the Major were sitting ready with the captain, and, of course Lady Helena, for women, they say, are always a little curious. Everything is an event at sea. For a moment they all sat silent, gazing at this frail relic, wondering if it told the tale of sad disaster, or brought some trifling message from a frolic-loving sailor, who had flung it into the sea to amuse himself when he had nothing better to do.However, the only way to know was to examine the bottle, and Glenarvan set to work without further delay, so carefully and minutely, that he might have been taken for a coroner making an inquest.He commenced by a close inspection of the outside. The neck was long and slender, and round the thick rim there was