Strict orders had been issued that, in the event of the strange ship showing from the south, everyone was to remain out of sight. The canoes were removed to a secluded cove, and all marks of occupation effaced from the seaward view. I even proposed taking down Gonneville’s Cross, which was a standing invitation for a ship to send in and examine it. Zolca, however, would not hear of it, in fact I am sure the people would not have allowed us to do it. He, however, suggested that we should mask it with boughs in the event of the ship appearing.
My forebodings were too true. Early one morning the glint of a white sail to the southward told us that the discovery-ship was on her way back. The Cross was easily hidden behind some palm-trees which we cut down for the purpose, and we anxiously waited for what would result.
The day was fine, the ship came on at a fair rate of speed, and in about a couple of hours or less was abreast of the bay.
It will be remembered that between our bay and the one to the north there was a great resemblance, and, having formerly passed our bay in the night and not knowing of its existence, I was in great hopes that they would take it to be the one where they had tried to land before, and not think it worth while to examine it again. It would have all happened just as I wished but for the treachery of my old comrade Paul.
Suddenly she changed her course and came close in to the shore. Astonished at this manœuvre I looked round for the cause, which was not far to find. Whilst all eyes had been fixed seaward, the traitor had removed the screen of boughs from the Cross, and, not content with this, had climbed the post and fastened a long streamer of red stuff to the top.
Zolca’s eyes were like burning coals, and had the culprit been in sight it would have fared hard with him. I saw that we must act quickly.
“Order the men back to the town,” I said. “Let Namoa see that they all retain their arms and keep in readiness. Also,” and I looked Zolca straight in the eyes, “order them to secure Paul, dead or alive!”
Our only hope now was to prevent Paul having any communication with the landing-party. The men drew quietly back to the town, and Zolca and I and about a dozen men awaited the coming of the boat which had been lowered and was heading towards us.
We stood grouped on the beach; at our backs, on the crest of the rise, towered the great Cross of De Gonneville, which a second Judas had just contaminated. We must have presented a strange picture to the officers who sat in the stern of the approaching boat.
She ran lightly up the beach and two sailors jumped out and held her, one on each side, while the officers landed. I advanced a few paces to meet them. One was a swaggering, red-faced fellow, with a long, blonde moustache curled at the ends, the very type of men I have seen reeling out of the taverns in Harlem. The other was grave and dignified, and to him I naturally addressed myself.