I was about to answer him, when something caused me to look across the sea to the westward. As I did so I gave a little cry of astonishment, for not more than five miles distant I could see the lights of a vessel coming towards us.
"Look!" I cried, "what boat can that be?"
Mr. Leversidge followed the direction of my hand. "If I'm not mistaken," the skipper said, "that is the Nautch Girl—Peach's schooner."
"Then there's trouble ahead. What on earth is to be done?"
"I have no notion. We cannot compel him to turn back, and if he finds us diving here he will be certain to suspect our motive and to give information against us."
We both turned and looked in the direction we had last seen the vessel, but to our amazement she was no longer there.
"What does it mean?" cried Leversidge. "What can have become of her?"
"I think I can tell you," said the skipper, "We're in for another fog."
"A fog again," replied the old gentleman. "If that is so we're done for."
"On the contrary," I said, "I think we're saved. Given a decent opportunity and I fancy I can see my way out of this scrape."