“Must keep up the stock, you know.”
“Of course. I didn’t know you had so much in reserve. How quickly these fellows handled it. They’re very smart.”
“They’ve got to be smart when Jakoub is around,” said Edmund grimly.
I guessed that the silent native who sat with us in the stern was Jakoub, and remembered Edmund’s description of him.
I hoped it had been he who had used the whip.
“Here we are,” said Edmund, as the Astarte suddenly became distinct and closer to us.
Someone fixed the port light in its bracket. There was no other light on deck, but a glow came through the sky-lights covering the saloon, and shone upwards along the tall pointed mainsail.
The boat was brought alongside, a short ladder slung from the side and, as I put my foot on it, a hand grasped mine and Captain Welfare said, “Welcome to the Astarte, sir.”
I thanked him and came aboard, followed by Edmund and the crew. At the same time the dinghy came alongside and was made fast.
There was a gruff order “Esta’ad,” followed by other words in Arabic which had the curious effect of fierceness to which the language lends itself. There was a rattle as sheets were hauled down and belayed and, with the two boats still in tow, the Astarte was on the wind and gathering way.