The following evening, the weather clearing, we made sail, the Dolphin leading.  As we stood out, we passed a fine large schooner--a fruit vessel, I believe--which had put in here.  Paul Truck hailed her as we passed slowly by, and he found that he knew her master, who said that she had put in to land her owner and his family, and that she was bound up the Straits of Gibraltar.  The very next night she was driven on shore near the Lizard--either on the Stags or some other rocks--and was dashed to pieces, all hands perishing.