The windlass creaked for the fifteenth time ... the last remnant of "King Solomon's cargo was on its way up. Wallion looked down, his sharp features had assumed a hard, resolute expression.
"Just right," he said. "You, Mr. Weston, had better go down and keep an eye on the men and will you, Captain Hawkins, please remain on the bridge. You and I, Tom, will move a little nearer to our fellow-travelers down there."
Noiselessly they climbed down to the "Ariadne's" lower deck, then made their way along under the bridge which brought them within five yards of Dixon and Corman, who were standing with their backs turned to the yacht, not suspecting anything. Toroni was just getting on his feet again after a minute inspection of the fifteenth and last chest, which stood dripping beside the others. The diver came up and climbed over the side of the barge; his helmet was unscrewed and the air-pump ceased working.
All was quiet. Toroni turned to his two friends.
"None of them have been damaged," he said, in a voice which ended in a hoarse whisper. "Look sharp now, it's all done.... Let's get away with the stuff as fast as we can. Quick."
Dixon sighed as if he were just waking from a bad dream. He threw away the stump of his cigarette, turned his head in the direction of the bridge and shouted: "Captain Hawkins, give the signal for the motor-boat to come here."
The Captain neither moved nor spoke, but Wallion leveled his revolver.
"No signal is required, Dixon," he answered, "everything is arranged."
Dixon and Corman swung round and stared Wallion full in the face.
The Doctor muttered an oath and felt for his pocket. Wallion and Tom looked at him fixedly, and the former said: