The “agreeable little surprise”—in the shape of the colonel’s daughter—was indeed found, alone, awaiting the arrival of the newly released convict in the music-room. But we will imitate the delicacy of those on board the Flying Fish, and leave father and daughter to exchange greetings and confidences in private.
Meanwhile, Sir Reginald, having conducted his guest below, and witnessed the first rapture of the meeting between father and daughter, returned to the deck, where he found his three male companions standing together, discussing the events of the last few hours, and watching the receding convict-ship, which had resumed her voyage, and was by this time nearly a mile distant.
“Well, Professor,” he said, as he joined the group, “having happily accomplished the rescue of your friend, what is to be our next move?”
“I have been thinking of that,” answered von Schalckenberg; “and in view of the fact that this expedition has been undertaken for the benefit of your daughter’s health, I would suggest that we work our way slowly southward. We are now exactly on the meridian of 30 degrees East longitude, so our friend Mildmay informs me; and by following this meridian southward we shall cross Asia Minor, hitting the coast some fifty miles to the eastward of the Black Sea entrance to the Bosporus, shave past the head of the Gulf of Ismid—which is the easternmost extremity of the Sea of Marmora—and leave the coast again about halfway between the island of Rhodes and Gulf of Adalia. Then, crossing the easternmost extremity of the Mediterranean Sea, we shall strike the African coast at Alexandria—sighting the historic Bay of Aboukir—passing over Lake Mareotis, and plunging into the Libyan Desert. Then, if you please, we can turn off at this point and follow the course of the Nile, visiting the Pyramids, Memphis, Luxor, the ruins of ancient Thebes, and all the rest of the interesting places that are to be found on the borders of the grand old river. But I do not advise this latter course, for the Egypt of to-day simply swarms with tourists; and I imagine that you, Sir Reginald, are not anxious to attract that attention to this ship of yours which it would be practically impossible for you to avoid by following up the course of the Nile.”
“You are quite right, Professor. We must avoid attention—that is to say, the attention of civilised folk—as carefully as possible,” answered Sir Reginald. “Besides, I think we have all done Egypt pretty thoroughly already. Therefore I am in favour of continuing due south into the very heart of Africa. We can penetrate into solitudes that ordinary travellers dare not attempt to reach, and I shall be rather surprised if we do not find ourselves amply rewarded by some very interesting discoveries, as was the case during our last cruise. Furthermore, there are those unicorns to be hunted for afresh. I shall never be entirely happy until I have secured a perfect specimen or two of those beautiful creatures.”
“Ach, doze unicorns!” exclaimed von Schalckenberg, throwing out his hands excitedly; “the very mention of them sets me longing to be after them again. Yes—yes, we certainly must not return home until we have obtained a few specimens of so wonderful an animal. Fortunately, the record of our previous voyage enables us to know exactly where to search for them.”
“Quite so,” assented Sir Reginald. “I think, however, Professor, that before we proceed further we ought to ascertain from your friend, Colonel Sziszkinski, what are his views respecting the future of himself and his daughter. Of course, I hope it is scarcely necessary for me to say that, as friends of yours, they are most heartily welcome to the hospitality of the Flying Fish for as long a time as they may care to accept it; but it is just possible that the colonel may have some plan that he would wish to put into operation without delay. In that case it appears to me that the greatest kindness on our part would be to convey him forthwith to the scene of his new sphere of action.”
“Ach! yes, that is true,” agreed von Schalckenberg. “We might discuss the matter with Sziszkinski at the breakfast-table—the mention of which reminds me that I am hungry, while my watch,”—withdrawing the article mentioned from his pocket and glancing at it—“tells me that breakfast ought now to be ready.”
He glanced round the horizon, which was bare save for the rapidly receding shape of the convict-ship, and continued—
“I see no reason why, with the approval of Captain Mildmay as our navigator, we should not remain where we are until after breakfast, by which time yonder ship will be out of sight, and there will be no one to note our next movement. There is no particular object in moving from here, I think, until our point of immediate destination is fixed. What say you, Mildmay?”