"Sir," he went on, "I know that there's nothing I can say will keep you for one moment from what you think to be your duty. I have just had a fortune left me in America. I'll give a destroyer to the British Navy if you'll overhaul the Christiania, search her, and take that young lady off."
The Commander smiled.
"The British Navy doesn't need bribing, sir," he said. "I've had a hint about the Christiania myself. I'll see what can be done. Now off you go and get into those dry clothes."
The two unexpected guests were hospitably entertained in the wardroom, and Aaron Rodd made a very creditable appearance, an hour later, in some oddments of naval uniform. They found their way on deck, but were only allowed at the top of the companion-way. The fog had lifted. There were half a dozen steamers in sight, and the destroyer seemed to be completing a rather violent curve. Suddenly there were loud orders. The roar of the machinery was lessened. She glided through the water, slackening speed at every instant. Looking down the deck they could see a sight which thrilled them both. The tug-master understood it better than Aaron.
"She's cleared for action, guv'nor!" he exclaimed. "The gunners are all at their posts. See the signal. My God, that's the Christiania!"
He pointed to the steamer round which they had circled.
"They've signalled her to stop," he continued. "If I get my hands on the captain! ... Hullo, another signal! Watch it, guv'nor. That's the last call—'Heave to at once or'——"
"Or what?" Aaron Rodd asked.
The tug-master smacked his lips.
"Those little six-inch boys will talk," he replied, with gusto. "We could send the Christiania to the bottom in something less than thirty seconds. You watch the angle of those guns. Look at the man's face who's just had an order! He's trained on her. My God!"