“All in good time, Mr Anderson. We shall see the lugger swing round that next point directly, and then we shall be in full view of our prize.”
The captain turned from his chief officer impatiently, and then in a low tone issued a few orders with respect to future proceedings, the master following out the instructions, while the two boarding parties, each armed and ready, stood waiting for the command which should launch them on board the now invisible slaver.
“Bah!” ejaculated the captain. “We are half-an-hour too late. We ought to be alongside now. Hang the fellow, Mr Anderson! Can he be taking us the right way round that point?”
“I hope so, sir, but I have my suspicions,” replied the lieutenant anxiously.
“What, that he is playing us false?”
“No, sir, but that he has lost heart and is afraid to pilot us right to where the schooner lies.”
“The scoundrel! If he has—” began the captain, sharing now in his subordinate’s anxiety. “Oh, impossible! He must know better than we do. Ahoy, there!” he cried, speaking just loud enough for the lookout to hear. “Can you make out where the lugger is making for?”
“Ay, ay, sir! Bit of a creek yonder, right inshore.”
“That’s it, sir,” cried the lieutenant excitedly; “he has taken fright. We must run round that bend yonder, keeping to mid-stream.”
“Or anchor,” exclaimed the captain sharply. “Why, confound it, man! The river forks here, and we are in a branch with a current running in another direction. Stand by there to lower the anchor!” he roared, “or we shall be ashore.”