Not a single action on board the schooner escaped the Chinaman’s watchful eye.
He saw the smuggler lower her boat, he then saw five or six Chinese get into her. The little craft, rowed by a Javanese crew, then put off and got under weigh. It soon got into the seething breakers and as Than Khan watched the tremendous exertions of the rowers, he could not help admiring the cool steady way in which the helmsman kept her head firmly to the waves.
“That must be Lim Ho himself,” he muttered.
Ardjan shuddered at the mention of that name. “Lim Ho!” he exclaimed, his voice betraying his terror.
“Yes,” said Than Khan, “in a few minutes they will all be here.”
Just then the boat was getting into the Moeara. He was right, the light craft manned by eight stout rowers was flying through the water and had got clear of the dangerous surf.
Once under the lee of the bow-nets and fairly in the bay, the boat was in comparatively smooth water and darted into the mouth of the Tjatjing.
Liem King stood at the landing place waiting to receive his countrymen and he began at once to lead the way to the little watch-house.
The five Chinamen had no sooner stepped ashore than the Javanese crew began to make all possible haste to unload the boat.
A number of small tins and barrels lay piled up in the bottom and these they brought to land and most carefully stowed away, hiding them in the sand under the bushes which grew hard by.