"What is to be done?" demanded Harold.
The captain shrugged his shoulders, and hurried off to question the pilot whom he had taken on board.
The pilot, when questioned, showed that he did not know anything of the eastern shore, though he might have safely guided the vessel down the Red Sea had she not been driven so far out of her course by the gale.
"Should we not sound the depth?" suggested Harold. "We may run on some unseen shoal."
The suggestion was adopted; the line was thrown out to measure the depth of the water. The result was unsatisfactory; the vessel was getting into a shallow part of the sea. The captain muttered a prayer to the Virgin and saints to get him out of his trouble, and then gave orders to let off steam.
"Perhaps we could get a pilot from Arabia," said Bolton. "There seems to be a little creek into which a boat could go, and, luckily, the wind has lulled."
The fiery globe of the sun had now risen above the sandy waste, bathing it in golden light. Some Arabs were seen on the beach, evidently watching the movements of the vessel, which was about to be anchored only a few hundred yards from the shore. Cenci gave command to some of his sailors to man a boat, and bring, if possible, a pilot who knew the coast. Accordingly, three Lascars, who spoke Arabic, got into the boat which was quickly lowered from the vessel. The boat soon accomplished its little voyage, and was drawn up on the beach. For some time every eye on the deck of the "Napoli" watched with eager interest what appeared like a conference between the Lascars and their countrymen on shore. The meeting seemed to be friendly, but apparently no pilot was at hand; and it was necessary to seek one inland. In Oriental lands, patience is a necessary virtue, and gradually those who were in the "Napoli" made up their minds to wait quietly at anchor until the pilot should come at last.
The day was Sunday, and Harold held a service on deck for the English passengers under an awning. Two Italians attended, perhaps from curiosity, perhaps from some higher motive. During the singing of the concluding hymn, the attention of Miss Petty was entirely distracted by the approach of the Principessa di Peliperiti herself; but, as soon as the music ended, the great lady walked away. There was some appropriateness in Bolton's description of her as Princess Pettier, for there was certainly similarity in height, restless manner, and gaudy dressing (as there was also in weakness of character), between the Italian and the English traveller.
Mrs. Evendale found no opportunity of conversing with the Princess herself during that long, wearisome day, but had some talk with two of her suite. After dinner, Mrs. Evendale went up to Harold with the question, "Do you happen to have any of your Italian gospels left?"
"One—only one; the rest were disposed of at Malta," was the reply.