"Perhaps her skipper's a pal of the pirate captain," suggested Vyse.
"Not likely," objected Broadmayne. "They didn't communicate with each other when we came in. I was looking out for that. 'Sides, it's hardly feasible that a sailing lugger, if she were acting as tender, would show up within a few miles of the great French naval port of Brest. It would be far safer to get in touch fifty miles from land."
"That's so," agreed Vyse. "And that brings us back to our original proposition. How's this for a scheme. The lugger's now almost dead astern of us. The tide's easing a bit. The Alerte's look-out is for'ard, consequently he can't see what's goin' on aft. We can lower ourselves over the stern, swim off to the lugger and get aboard by her cable, if there's nothing better. We'll warn her master of the undesirable nature of the Alerte and offer him a hundred quid if he'll weigh at once and give us a passage to England."
"Then the sooner the better," said the Sub briskly. "It will be another hour and a half before the look-out is relieved. If he misses us, he'll probably think we've gone below. His relief will know we're not."
Their preparations were quickly and silently made. They sacrificed their footgear. Broadmayne took off his black oilskin, rolled it neatly and stowed it away under the platform of the sounding machine aft.
The next step was to drop the after-fall of one of the quarter-boats overboard. Had the Alerte been a genuine tramp steamer the fugitives would have to run the risk of being seen through the cabin scuttles, but her cabins being within the hull of the submarine, were artificially lighted.
Broadmayne gave a swift, comprehensive look for'ard. The look-out man was still in the fo'c'sle. He was resting one leg on the low bulwark, and was gazing stolidly in the direction of St. Matthieu lighthouse. Evidently he considered his job a merely formal one, and was making the best of his trick by indulging in fanciful speculations of what he would do with his rapidly increasing wealth.
Giving his companion a reassuring nod, the Sub cautiously slid over the rail, gripped the rope and lowered himself slowly.
"Ugh!" he mused. "Feet first; rotten way to take the water. I'll bet it's beastly cold."
But to his surprise the sea was fairly warm. It made him shiver when the water rose above his ankles and knees, but directly he was immersed to his neck he felt no further discomfort.