When they came close up Roderic saw the British flag floating from the stern.
Then his eyes sought the smoke stack, and as near as he could judge in the uncertain light it appeared to answer the description he had received of the Sterling Castle—the funnel was dark below and light above, probably buff, with the trade-mark of its line in relief.
It mattered little, since Captain Beven was about to settle this matter once and for all.
Their approach had been noisy enough to attract attention, and as they came up, a deep voice hailed them.
It was a decidedly English voice, and the salutation lacked the extreme courtesy that might have been expected had the vessel floated the colors of Spain, France or Italy.
"Hello! the boat—what d'ye want?"
That was to the point, at least.
Captain Beven made immediate answer to the effect that it was his desire to come aboard and pay his respects to his old friend the skipper, upon hearing which the man who had hailed from the deck sang out his readiness to receive them.
It may be readily understood that Roderic found himself alongside the blockade runner with singular emotions stirring within his mind.
The remarkable had happened again, for it was quite out of the common that the two vessels thus came together in the Azores.