Then with a sigh of relief he lay down in a hammock the peons had got ready, and when two of the latter took up the poles they went on again.
On the second night after leaving the presidio, Kit sat on the coaming of a small steam launch that lurched across the long undulations rolling in from the Caribbean. It had been blowing fresh, and although the wind had dropped the swell ran high. When the launch swung up, a vague, hazy smear rather suggested than indicated land astern; the sea ahead was dark, but in one place a faint reflection on the sky told that the moon would soon rise. Although the beach was some distance off, a dull monotonous rumble, pierced now and then by the clank of the launch's engines, hinted at breaking surf. The furnace door was open and the red light touched Adam's face as he sat, supported by a cushion, in a corner of the cockpit. He looked very haggard and Kit thought him the worse for his journey.
"The light's in my eyes, but there was nothing on the skyline a minute or two ago," Kit remarked. "It will be awkward if Mayne doesn't get across. You seem persuaded he'll come."
"I know he'd start. We can't tell what may have happened afterwards and there was more wind than I liked. He'll be here on time, if he's been able to keep the old boat off the ground."
"Time is getting short. I expect the rebels have found out we're not at the port and Galdar will have the road watched when the news gets to the town. It might pay him to risk forcing a conflict if he could seize the convoy, and I'll feel happier when the guns and money are off our hands. It will be the president's business to look after them then."
"That's so," Adam agreed. "Our part of the job's to land the goods and it's unlucky the tides are small. There won't be much water on the shoals and although we'll have an extra few inches tomorrow, I don't want Mayne to wait."
Kit pondered, for he had taken some soundings when coming out. They were probably not correct, because the launch had rolled among the white combers that swept the shoals while he used the lead, but the average depth was about the steamer's draught in her usual trim. Mayne, however, ought to know what depth to expect, and Kit hoped he had loaded the vessel to correspond. By and by the mulatto fireman shut the furnace door, the puzzling light was cut off, and Kit searched the horizon. For some minutes, he saw nothing; and then a trail of red fire soared into the sky.
"He's brought her across," said Adam. "Get our rocket off."
The rocket swept up in a wide curve and burst into crimson lights. After this there was darkness for a time until an indistinct black object appeared against the brightening sky. Then the launch sank back into the trough, where the gloom was only broken by the glimmer of the phosphorescence that spangled the water. When she swung up on the top of the next swell the steamer was plainer and Kit blew the whistle as he changed their course.
When the moon rose slowly out of the sea he stopped the clanking engine and the launch reeled up and down, some fifty yards off the steamer. The _Rio Negro _carried no lights, but the phosphorescence shone upon her wet plates as she rolled them out of the water. Her side rose high and black, and then sank until her rail was nearly level with the spangled foam. Indistinct figures scrambled about her deck, and when Kit sheered the launch in, her ladder went down with a rattle. A half-breed on board the launch caught it with his boat hook, and Adam stood at the bow, waiting for a chance to jump upon the narrow platform that lurched up above him and then plunged into the sea. Kit felt anxious. He did not think Adam was equal to the effort and dreaded the consequences of the shock if he missed and fell.