“Does she lie far off, Larry?”
“I can’t say, sir. You shall judge for yourself.”
I went up upon the bridge with him for a better view, and immediately discerned the spectacle which had so excited him. Many miles away, as I judged, upon our port-bow, a light flashed out brilliantly above a sleeping ocean; a blinking, hovering, mad-cap light, now turning its glowing face to a fleecy sky, now making lakes of golden fire upon the glassy water, now revolving as in some mighty omnivorous circle which should embrace all things near and far and reveal their presence to watching eyes. Plainly directed by a skilful hand, I said that a trained officer worked the lantern as they work it on board a man-of-war; but as though to deny that the unknown ship was a man-of-war, the monster searchlight began anon to answer as though to a dancing, drunken measure of some hand that wearied of duty and made a jest of it. Not for one minute would this have been permitted upon the deck of a battleship. I could doubt no longer that Captain Larry spoke the truth.
“We are carrying no lights ourselves, Larry?” I exclaimed presently, and added apologetically, “that goes without saying.”
“It goes without saying, doctor. I ordered lights out at eight bells.”
“We shall show a haze of red light above our funnels?”
“Not with those guards to port Mr. Benson has fitted up.”
“Do you think we dare run up to her, Larry?”
“There would be little risk when they get tired of their fireworks, doctor.”
“We’ll do it, Larry. Don’t forget Joan Fordibras is aboard there. I would give much for one spoken word that she could understand.”