The tow-rope tightened as the gig swung into line astern, and they moved steadily toward the land for some time. Then they heard a roar of steam again, louder than before and continuous, and the lieutenant signed to the engineer.
"Full speed! We have her now!"
The water hissed along the planks, the gig lifted her bows on a surging wave, and the wash of the screw ran far astern. A blurred object grew out of the darkness in front of them, and then the officer called to the coastguards:
"Cast off and get to your work! Burn a flare if you want us!"
A rope fell into the water, the engines stopped, and there was a rattle of oars as the gig drove by. They fell with a simultaneous splash, and their regular thud receded as she swept up-channel while the launch's crew waited.
In a few minutes the sound stopped. There were alarmed shouts and hoarse orders; while the roar of steam continued. Then the beat of oars began again. The boat came back slowly, with two men pulling, and ran alongside the launch.
"You don't seem to have had much trouble," the lieutenant remarked.
"We hadn't, sir," answered a coastguard officer. "They were busy and didn't hear us until we'd got our boat-hook on her rail. Only one of them drew a pistol and he was knocked down. We'll land them and leave a guard on board when she's moored.'"
"Very well, if we can't take her to Barrow this tide?"
The coastguard laughed.