In less than a minute the airship had come within a little distance astern of the yacht.
“Hallo!” came a voice from the air.
“Are you there?” answered Mr. Greatorex, from force of habit at the telephone.
“Who are you?” came the response. “I say, Mr. Greatorex, pick up that boat and go full speed ahead. She’s going beautifully; the oiling she’s had has done her no end of good.”
“All right. Aren’t you coming down? It’s getting dark; I can hardly see you.”
“Not just yet. She goes smoother than the yacht, and it’s beautifully fresh up here. I can tell your whereabouts by your lights.”
“All right. Don’t get lost!”
Tom laughed. He laughed again when, from his elevated position, he saw that though the boat had been hoisted on board, four men had been told off to stand by the davits in order to lower it again at the first sign of mishap.
The yacht was sent full speed ahead. She could easily do her eighteen knots, but was no match in speed for the airship, which circled round and round her.
“She beats us hollow,” said Mr. Mumford to M’Cracken, as they watched the flight from the foot of the companion.