“Aye, aye,” came back the hail from Midshipman Stark, who had the wheel. “We see her. Can you make out if she’s going about?”
Ned placed his hands to his mouth funnel-wise and hailed the oncoming craft.
“Catboat ahoy!”
Then down the wind there came a flung reply:
“Aye, aye. Keep on your course. We’ll tack directly.”
“They’d better hurry up, then,” thought Ned; “if they don’t they’ll be into us before you can say ‘knife.’”
For a brief, nerve-tingling space of time they kept their eyes glued on the little craft. So near was she now that they could almost have thrown any object from the submarine’s deck upon hers.
“See, they’re going to tack!” cried Herc; “they’re drawing the sheet tight and——They’re over!”
“Good heavens!” burst from Ned, as the sailing craft seemed to leap up into the wind for an instant, and then, without the slightest warning, capsized on her side.