'All right,' said the latter. 'Every one must know and agree before we start.'
'Gentlemen,' he said, addressing the anxious crowd who surrounded him, 'my son has suggested that we might do something better than go and lie up for an indefinite time in the hiding-place which would be our only possible refuge on these shores, and where we should be in constant danger from the enemy. His idea is that we might make a dash back down the Straits.'
'Mais, it would be ze madness!' exclaimed an elderly Frenchman, with a gray imperial and a blood-stained bandage around his head. 'Zey would sink us.'
'So they would under ordinary circumstances,' agreed the captain. 'But the night and—more than that—the fog are in our favour. Besides this launch is Turkish, and we have several people aboard who can speak the language.'
'But ze mines!' objected the Frenchman.
'There again we are fairly safe. The launch is of such shallow draught that she will easily pass over the mine-fields. Floating mines we must of course risk, but there are not likely to be many about, for the Turks only send them down when an attack is expected. One other point is in our favour. This launch is fast. With any luck, we shall be through the Straits and in safety long before daylight.'
The Frenchman nodded.
'Vair well, Monsieur le Capitaine. For me, I am satisfied.'
'I think we all are,' said an elderly Englishman named Symons.
The captain looked round, but no one offered any objection.