In order to leave them free later on, it was decided to have breakfast at once, and by the time the hasty meal had been disposed of the stranger was clearly visible to the naked eye. She lay heading westward, as though anchored in the swing of the tide, and her fires appeared to be either out or banked, as no smoke was visible at her funnel. The glass revealed a flag at her forepeak, but she was still too far off to make out its coloring.
Now that the dramatic climax was approaching, the minds of the actors in the play became charged with a very real anxiety. Captain Amery, under almost any circumstances, would have to deal with a very ticklish situation. He had to get the gold, if it was salvable, and the fact that they were not in British waters would be a complication if the Belgian had already recovered it. French had to ascertain if his quarry were on board, and if so, see that they did not escape him—also a difficult job outside the three-mile limit. For Price a fortune hung in the balance—not of course all the gold that might be found, but the proportion allowed him by law; while for Cheyne there remained something a thousand times more important than the capture of a criminal or the acquisition of a fortune—for Cheyne the question of Joan Merrill’s life was at stake. Their several anxieties were reflected on the faces of the men, as they stood in silence, watching the rapidly growing vessel.
Presently an exclamation came from Captain Amery.
“By Jove!” he said, “this is a rum business. I can see that flag now, and it’s our red ensign. What’s a Belgian boat doing with a British flag? And what’s more, it’s jack down—a flag of distress. What do you think of that?” He looked at the others with a puzzled expression, then went on: “I suppose they’re not armed? You don’t know, Inspector, do you? If they were armed it would be a likely enough ruse to get us close by, so as to make sure of hitting us in a vital place.”
French shook his head. He had heard nothing about arms, though for all he knew to the contrary the L’Escaut might carry a gun.
“I don’t see one,” the captain continued, “but then if they have one they’d keep it hidden. But I don’t like there being no signs of life aboard her. There’s no smoke anywhere, either from her boilers or her galley. There’s no one on the bridge, and I’ve not seen a movement on deck. It doesn’t look well: in fact it looks as if they were lying low and waiting for us.”
They were now within a mile of the stranger, and her details were clear even to the naked eye.
“It’s the L’Escaut anyway,” Captain Amery went on. “I can see the name on her bows. But I confess I don’t like that flag and that silence. I think I’ll see if I can wake her up.”
He put his hand on the foghorn halliard and blew a number of resounding blasts. For a few seconds nothing happened, then suddenly two figures appeared at the deckhouse door, and after a moment’s pause, rushed up on the bridge and began waving furiously. As they passed up the bridge ladder they came from behind the shelter of a boat and their silhouettes became visible against the sky. They were both women!
A strangled cry burst from Cheyne as he snatched the captain’s telescope and gazed at them, then with a shout of “It’s she! It’s she!” he leaped to the end of the bridge and began waving his hat frantically.