"That's the gun to signal us to stop," said Marcus between his teeth.
He turned the nose of the boat southward, a hazardous proceeding, for he ran into clear water, and had only just got back into the shelter of the providential fog bank when the white beam came stealthily along the edge of the mist. Presently it died out, and they saw it no more.
"They're looking for us," said Marcus again.
"You said that before," said the girl calmly.
"They've probably warned them at Tangier. We dare not take the boat into the bay," said Stepney, whose nerves were now on edge.
He turned again westward, edging toward the rocky coast of northern Africa. They saw little clusters of lights on the shore, and he tried to remember what towns they were.
"I think that big one is Cutra, the Spanish convict station," he said.
He slowed down the boat, and they felt their way gingerly along the coast line, until the flick and flash of a lighthouse gave them an idea of their position.
"Cape Spartel," he identified the light. "We can land very soon. I was in Morocco for three months, and if I remember rightly the beach is good walking as far as Tangier."
She went into the cabin and changed, and as the nose of the Jungle Queen slid gently up the sandy beach she was ready.