Mr. Dartmoor turned and took the marine glasses which Carl handed to him.
“Take a look, captain,” he said, after a minute. “I do believe another ship is planning to take the cargo on board.”
Captain Saunders put his eye to the telescope and was heard to mutter:—
“You’re right, Dartmoor.”
He gazed at the oncoming vessel some few minutes longer, then added: “Yes, sir; one of the transports is making in this direction. And I think that I can understand the reason.”
“Are we still in doubt as to the outcome?” asked Don Isaac, who with Señor Cisneros had returned to the corner.
“Yes. And if I am correct in my surmise, the plot will now succeed.”
“How so? Don’t you think that the Blanco’s officers guessed the nature of that cargo?”
“No. I don’t believe they did. If they had, she would probably have stood off a short distance and put a shell into it, to test the correctness of the suspicion. Instead of that, the admiral has signalled another ship to approach. My strongest grounds for believing that the ruse has succeeded are based on the nature of the vessel that has been called from the line.”
“In what respect?”