“We’re expected, that’s gospel,” he muttered. But he did not change his course, for he knew that on his other side there was a second fleet, tugging at drift leads off the entrance to the main ship channel. It was near hopeless, but he meant to dart between the two.
“Now for a reception as ’ull touch us to the quick, as Loo-ee Sixteenth said––” The skipper cut himself short. “Aye, aye, sir,” he cried, “they’ve spied us!”
“They haven’t!” groaned Murguía. “How could they?”
“’T’aint important now, sir, how they could. There might be a gleam in our wake. But any’ow they ’ave.”
They had indeed. Less than a mile to port there suddenly appeared two red lights, two sullen eyeballs of fire. Then, a rocket cleft the darkness, its slant proclaiming the fugitive’s 36course. Hurriedly the Luz’s quartermaster sent up a rocket also, but in the opposite direction. It was useless. A third rocket from the signaling blockader contradicted him.
“We’re bein’ chased,” announced the skipper. “One of ’em ’as slipped her chain and got off.”
As La Luz had gained the open, the skipper let his quartermaster take the wheel. “’Old her to the wind, lad,” he cautioned. “A beam sea ’ud swamp us.” Next he whistled down to the engine room. They were to stoke with turpentine and cotton. At once Murguía began to fidget. “It, it will make smoke,” he whined.
“An’ steam. We’re seen a’ready, ain’t we, sir?”
“But it costs more.”
“Not if it clears us. Soft coal ’ud seem bloomin’ expensive, sir, if we got over’auled.”