But the foreman knew every inlet and every jutting point which marked the course of the Thames; and, with the tiller in his hand, he navigated the boat with consummate skill.
Not a word was spoken; and the faint murmurs of the oars were drowned in the whistling of the breeze which now swept over the river.
At length the foreman said in a low whisper, "There is the light of the police-boat."
At a distance of about a quarter of a mile that light appeared, like a solitary star upon the waters.
Sometimes it moved—then stopped, as the quarantine officers rowed, or rested on their oars.
"We must now be within a few yards of the Lady Anne," whispered Swot, after another long pause: "take to your arms."
The Buffer cautiously raised a plank at the bottom of the boat, and drew forth, one after another, five cutlasses.
These the pirates silently fastened to their waists.
The boat moved slowly along; and in another minute it was by the side of the plague ship.
The Resurrection Man stretched out his arm, and his hand swept its slimy hull.