“Yes, that’s quite likely, but the chances are about equal that we shall not. Mr Burgess knows what he is about, and as likely as not we shall be right into Velova Bay soon after sunrise, and the President’s gunboat twenty miles away.”
Several times over during the rest of the night’s run, Fitz observed that there was a little anxious conference between the skipper and the mate, the former speaking very sternly, and on one occasion the latter spoke out loud in a sharp angry voice, the words reaching the middy’s ear.
“Of course it is very risky,” he said, “but I feel as if I shall get her through, or I shouldn’t do it. Shall we take soundings and drop anchor in the best bit we can find?”
“Where we shall be clearly seen as soon as day breaks? No! Go on.”
It was a relief then to both the lads when the day broke, showing them a line of breakers about half-a-mile away on the starboard-bow, and clear open water right ahead, while as the dawn lifted more and more, it was to show a high ground jungle and the beautiful curve of another bay formed by a couple of ridges about three miles apart running down into the sea.
“There,” cried Poole triumphantly; “we have been running the gauntlet of dangerous rocks all night, and we’ve won. That’s Velova Bay. You will see the city directly, just at the mouth of the valley. Lovely place. It’s the next city to San Cristobal.”
“Fetch my glass, Poole,” said the skipper; and upon its being brought its owner took a long searching sweep of the coast as he stood by the mate’s side.
“I can only make out a few small vessels,” he said; “nothing that we need mind. Run straight in, and we can land everything before the gunboat can get round, even if she comes, which is doubtful, after all.”
“Yes, knowing how we can sail.”
The boys were standing near, and heard all that was said, for their elders spoke freely before them.