“Twenty-two minutes, sir.”
“Is there any way by which the torpedoes now fastened to her can be removed, or their explosion prevented, captain?”
“None whatever, sir.”
“Captain, signal the Esmeralda to have riflemen in place, but not to shoot the baron unless he offers violence to his wife. Signal her also to slacken speed while we run down to her. Signal the fleet to slacken speed, and fall behind. Get out a boat with crew to put me on board the Esmeralda.”
There was a rapid fluttering of scarlet flags from main and foretops, and the orders were obeyed.
“I will go with you, Mr. Morning,” said the captain of the Siva.
“And so will I, and I, and I,” came in chorus from a dozen officers and guests who had remained breathless auditors of the conversation.
“No,” said Morning quietly, “I will go alone. I do not propose to risk a single one of these valuable lives, or this ship.”
Morning picked up a coil of light rope from where it hung on a belaying pin, and descended into the boat, which, with crew in place, was now suspended a few feet from the water. “Captain,” said he, “as soon as we are launched you will steam away with the Siva, and rejoin the fleet: The steam launch towed by the Esmeralda will be sufficient to provide for the safety of all. Run us as close to the Esmeralda as you can, captain, before you drop us,” and Morning rapidly knotted a slip noose in the rope.
Clang! clang! clang! sounded the signal to reverse the engines; the Siva glided alongside and within three hundred feet of the Esmeralda, and the boat containing David Morning dropped gently into the foaming water. Clang! again went the gong, and by the time David Morning sprang up the ladder at the companion-way of the Esmeralda, the Siva was half a mile away.