“Oh, yes, Mr Gregory.”
“I mean when we near the praus. Will he bark?”
“No,” said Mark confidently.
“Good. Pull easy, my lads; we’ve plenty of time. If the wind holds off,”—he added to himself, for he knew that with ever so light a breeze the Petrel would be soon taken far beyond their reach.
As the boat left the shore Mark strained his eyes to make out the ship and its attendants; but all was dark, save the spangling of the stars, till they were about a hundred yards from the shore, when a beautiful phenomenon caught the lad’s eye, for wherever the oars disturbed the water it seemed as if fiery snakes darted away in an undulating line which seemed to run through the transparent black water in every direction.
Mark only checked himself in time, for his lips began to form ejaculations of delight as he found that he was about to call upon those about him to share his pleasure.
At times the sea appeared to be literally on fire with the undulating ribbons of light, and as Mr Gregory realised this he had to reduce their speed and caution the rowers to dip their oars with greater care.
They glided on through the darkness, looking vainly for the ship, and from Mr Gregory’s manner it soon became evident that he was doubtful as to whether they were going in a straight line towards it, for after a few minutes he made the men cease rowing, and bent down to take counsel with Morgan, who sat in the bottom of the boat resting his back against one of the thwarts.
“You ought to be able to see her now,” whispered Morgan, “but I fear that the current has carried her more east.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” said Gregory softly, “and I’m afraid of missing her. If she would only show a light!”