A Cabinet Secret

by Guy Boothby

"The boats are returning," I shouted down the tube, in a voice that might have been heard a couple of hundred yards away, and then added illogically—"can you do nothing?"

I looked again, and sure enough two of the boats were heading directly for us. It was plain that they had noticed something suspicious, either from the smoke escaping from the funnel, or the splashing of the screw astern, otherwise they would not have deemed it necessary to send a second boat. They must have guessed that we had escaped from our cabins, and that we had taken charge of the ship.

For a moment a feeling of exultation seized me as I thought of the disappointment and rage which must be filling their hearts. The feeling, however, was short-lived. Let them once get aboard, I reflected (and I did not see how we were to prevent them), and the end, so far as we were concerned, would be the same as though the bomb I had thrown overboard had been allowed to do its deadly work. I looked out again, to discover that the leading boat was now less than a quarter of a mile away; so close indeed was she that I could plainly see the men in her—the dark man, who had officiated as steward, in the bows, and Sargasta and Conrad in the stern. Every stroke of the oars was bringing her nearer, and already the man in the bows was getting his boat-hook ready to hitch on to the accommodation ladder. In another two or three minutes at most, they would have been aboard. Then in a voice which at any other time I should not have recognised for my own, I shouted down the tube—"For Heaven's sake, give her steam. They are close alongside." Then came back the answer I shall not forget as long as I live: "It's all right now, I can let her go."

I had scarcely withdrawn my ear from the tube before I felt a throb run through the vessel, and she was going ahead at a speed that could scarcely have been less than eight knots an hour. Throwing prudence to the winds, I ran out to the deck and looked at the boats, now lying motionless upon the water some considerable distance astern. One of the occupants of the first boat was standing up watching us through a pair of glasses. Then, realizing that it was hopeless for them to think of catching us, the boat's head was turned, and they pulled back at a fast pace towards the yacht. That it would be necessary for the latter to remain in order to pick them up was quite certain, and in this lay our chance of obtaining a good start. Through the medium of the speaking-tube I shouted words of encouragement to the engine-room below. It needed only a glance over the side to be assured that our speed was materially increasing. If only we could manage to keep it up until nightfall, it was just possible we might manage to escape after all. At one time and another I have sailed many an exciting race, but never one for such a big stake as that we were now contesting. It was nearly five o'clock by this time, and the afternoon was rapidly drawing in. In half an hour it would be dark, then, if we were not overhauled and captured before, our opportunity would come. Kind, however, as Providence had so far been, even greater good fortune was still in store for us. I remember that I had just called down to the engine-room to know if one of them could come up to me for a consultation. The Commander-in-Chief was selected, and it was not long before he made his appearance before me, collarless, with his shirtsleeves rolled up, and begrimed from head to foot with coal-dust.

"Where is she?" he asked, as soon as he reached me.

In answer I led him to the door of the wheel-room and pointed astern.

"She has got the boats aboard, and will be after us in a few minutes," I said. "Let us hope that we shall be able to show them a good pair of heels. Can she do any more than her present running?"

"Not very much," my companion replied. "We are all inexperienced down below, you know. If you could see Castellan's face as I saw it just now, you would see the very picture of anxiety. He says he doesn't know at what moment he may turn a wrong handle and blow us to pieces."

"I trust he will not do so just yet," I answered. "Tell him we are all agreed that he is doing splendidly. And now let us see how our friend, the enemy, is get—— Why, what's this? what's become of the yacht? I can't see her!"

We stood at the wheel-house door straining our eyes, but we could see no sign of the yacht. Providence had sent to our assistance one of those extraordinary fogs which spring up so quickly on the west coast of Ireland, and this was the stroke of Good Fortune to which I have already referred. A moment before the sea had been as open as a mill pond; now it was covered with an impenetrable blanket of mist.