Here Martyn, catching the murmur of voices, passed the word for silence, and nothing more was said until they reached the boats which they had drawn up on the shore. A few minutes later they were alongside the brigantine. Mr. Beveridge hailed them as they approached.
“Is that you, Martyn?”
“Yes, sir. Horace’s plan has worked perfectly, and we have got them all out. The boats can only carry half. He is waiting with the rest on the beach.”
“Thank God for that, Martyn! No one hurt at all?”
“No one, not even a Turk has been knocked down. The only scrimmage has been with one of the pasha’s wives’ maids, who fought like a wild-cat before two of our men could make her a prisoner.”
Directly the rest of the party came off the anchor was weighed and sail made on the brigantine, and she was headed from the land. In half an hour a look-out in the bow called out: “I think I can make out the schooner away on our beam, sir.”
“I think it is her,” Martyn said after going forward to have a look. “Light that red flare-up we brought with us, Horace.”
As soon as the red flame broke out, a similar signal was shown by the craft in the distance. The brigantine was headed for her, and the two vessels rapidly approached each other. Presently a hail from Tom Burdett came across the water.
“Captain Martyn ahoy!”
“Ay, ay, Tom! We have got them all. Everyone is safe and well.”