“I think that of the Church is more appropriate,” Edward Drake answered, and glanced at the flag which flew at the stern.
“Hallo! That looks like a ship in the distance,” Armstrong cried, and hastened to the bridge.
The Esmeralda spurted ahead and entered the river on the far side from the town of Banana.
“I hate being only a spectator. I wish I had something to do,” Gaunt said irritably.
A few miles up the river towards Boma could be seen a large steamer, which Gaunt at once recognized with the aid of his glasses.
“It is either the Albertville or the Leopoldville,” he remarked.
“Are they British ships?”
“They belong to an English firm, although they fly the Belgian flag. There is a regular line of steamers running from here to Antwerp, and I’ll bet that this ship is carrying a million francs’ worth of rubber, and a like value of ivory.”
“Tainted with blood,” Drake said in a low voice. “Please God this tyranny will soon come to an end.”
“Now we are in for it. It’s sink or swim. See, Armstrong is signaling them to stop,” Gaunt cried eagerly.