The fugitives displayed new energy, and for several moments longer they kept their distance. The steamer grew more and more distinct. They could clearly discern her masts, and the thick clouds of black smoke that issued from her smoke-stack. Glenarvan, giving the helm to Robert, had seized the geographer's glass, and did not lose a single movement of the vessel.
But what were Captain Mangles and his companions to think when they saw the expression of his features change, his face grow pale, and the instrument fall from his hands. A single word explained this sudden emotion.
"The Duncan!" cried Glenarvan,—"the Duncan and the convicts!"
"The Duncan?" repeated the captain, dropping his oar and rising.
"Yes, death on all sides!" moaned Glenarvan, overcome by so many calamities.
It was indeed the yacht—without a doubt,—the yacht, with her crew of bandits! The major could not repress a malediction. This was too much.
Meantime the canoe was floating at random. Whither should they guide it, whither flee? Was it possible to choose between the savages and the convicts?
