He saw instantly what had caught the old sailor's eye.
A woman's white duck dress stirred by the night breeze drew his attention to the quarter deck.
It was Cleo, who had come on deck again, possibly to discover whether he had aroused from his state of dreamy forgetfulness.
Did she know where they were going—was she aware of his presence in the boat?
Impossible.
He might have called out, but that would hardly have been politic—she should hear the results of the adventure when they returned.
His attention was now entirely occupied with the craft which their boat, urged on by the strokes of the two men, was rapidly approaching.
As she loomed out of the water, even Roderic could see she was fairly well laden.
He could imagine the cargo would be one that might prove of great value to the forces of General Blanco, could it be landed at Havana in spite of the Yankee fleet lying off that city.