Without finishing the sentence the captain presses the electric bells which communicate with the engine-room. It is soon apparent that the yacht has not until now reached the limit of her speed. The regular vibrations that mark the revolutions of the twin shafts become one prolonged shiver, and the black hull is hurled through the water at incredible speed.
The effect becomes noticeable in short order. The white mass astern grows “fine by degrees and beautifully less,” and as Capt. Beals closes his glass with a snap he remarks, complacently: “She’ll be hull down in an hour or two if she doesn’t blow out a cylinder head before that time.”
Just about this time Van Zandt and Manada go below and reappear a few moments later with a closely rolled silken flag, which Van Zandt hands to the captain with the command that it be hoisted to the breeze. Without even examining the emblem, the imperturbable executive officer bends the silken roll upon the halyards. A few hearty pulls by a stalwart blue-jacket and the ensign reaches the masthead, where the stiff breeze quickly breaks it out.
As a singular flag, with a solitary star in a triangular field of blue, is revealed to the wondering gaze of passengers and crew, Don Manada reverently bares his head and his lips frame the words “Viva Cuba Libre!”
Suddenly there is borne to their ears, above the whistling of the wind and the mighty pulsations of the machinery, the sullen boom of cannon. All eyes instinctively seek the America. A puff of white issues from her forward barbette, and as Capt. Beals returns his glass to its socket, he tells Van Zandt:
“She has saluted the Semiramis and dipped her ensign. She is bearing off to windward and gives up the race.”
“She saw the flag, do you think?”
“Doubtless,” Mr. Beals replies, with a grim smile. “Shall we slacken speed, sir?”
“Only to natural draught. I wish to make our destination as soon as possible. And by the way, Mr. Beals, you may haul down the flag. It has served its purpose for the present,” pointing to the enraptured Don Manada.
Then Van Zandt conducts his passengers below and is prepared for Miss Hathaway’s question: