She was a schooner-bowed vessel of about 400 tons, painted white hull with a green boot-top. Her single funnel emitted no smoke except little puffs of bluish vapour. She flew no ensign. Most of her crew were blacks, but on the bridge were two white men in white drill uniforms.
"She's motor driven," declared Peter. "That funnel is only a concession to appearance, even though it does carry out the exhaust. Wonder what she's doing here?"
"We'll soon find out," replied Burgoyne. "She is or was, at one time a private yacht. Have you collected all the gear you require, Miss Vivian? We are going to beg a passage in yonder vessel, and they may be in a hurry."
The stranger slowed down, but made no attempt to lower a boat. When within hailing distance, one of the officers on the bridge shouted through a megaphone.
"Schooner, ahoy! What do you want?"
"What ship is that?" inquired Burgoyne.
"Titania, of Southampton," was the reply. "What are you?"
"No name," replied Alwyn. "We're survivors of the S.S. Donibristle. Can you give us a passage?"
Evidently the name of the missing merchant vessel was unknown to the officers of the Titania. They conferred for a few minutes, then the one who had previously hailed raised his hand.
"Right-o!" he replied. "Stand by to take a warp. I'll run alongside you."