He was proceeding, when he suddenly stopped, catching a noise of oars on the bow, and suddenly a long, sharp-stemmed boat, apparently a police boat, shot out of the gloom, and a powerful voice hailed:
'Schooner ahoy!'
'Hallo!' answered Captain Glew, who was leaning over the side, at a respectful distance from the father and daughter, furtively smoking a cheroot.
'I want to come aboard of you.'
In a minute the boat was alongside, and a couple of men sprang over the rail.
'What vessel's this?' said one of the men, who, like his companion, wore a tall, glazed hat, and was swathed to the throat in overcoat and shawls.
'The Mowbray, privately owned. What's your business?' said Captain Glew.
'We're Bow Street officers. We're searching the shipping for a man named Simmons. D'ye want to see our warrant?'
'What's he charged with?' said Mr. Vanderholt, coming with his daughter on his arm from the other side of the deck.