Heading slowly down the harbor we were surprised at being hailed by a small government launch flying the Egyptian flag, which pressed close to our side, while an officer in uniform stood up and gesticulated wildly toward us.
“What’s wanted?” asked Captain Steele, leaning over the rail.
“Stop! Wait!” cried the fat officer, brokenly. “I must come on board.”
“Hike along, then,” called my father, but made no signal to stop the engines.
We were moving very slowly, for we had to steer clear of the numerous craft anchored in the harbor, so the launch grappled our side and Ned let down a ladder which the official clutched and swarmed overboard with surprising agility.
“Stop! Go back!” he shouted, as soon as he reached the deck. “This ship is the ship Seagull; it is arrest—you are all arrest!”
“What for?” demanded the Captain.
“I have instruction from his Excellency the Minister of Finance to stop you. You must not leave Egypt, he say. You have treasure on board—treasure contraband to the Egyptian Government.”
We stared at one another aghast. How in the world had this information come to the ears of the government? and what should we do—what could we do—in this emergency? Arrest and confiscation first, and a legal battle to follow! We shuddered even to contemplate such a difficulty.
“Crowd on full steam, Tomlinson,” said Captain Steele to the Chief Engineer, who stood beside him. The man saluted with a smile and retired to obey.