“The story is plausible, but I am afraid it will not bear looking into,” observed the colonel; “however, I will play my part as I best can.”
“We will not give them time to look into that or anything else,” replied Bowse. “They will observe the loss of caboose and boats, and also of our bulwarks, it is true; but we must settle them before they have time to consult about it; or we may point it out to them at once, and tell them that it happened at the end of the gale, and that it would have made us shorten sail if the wind had not dropped.”
The plan of the master being agreed to, preparations were made to receive their very doubtful visitors. Ada and her attendant were on the poop, with Mitchell to guard them. The colonel and master, with the first mate stood at the gangway, on either side of which were stationed two of the strongest men in the ship, their cutlasses being concealed. The second mate, with six other hands, well armed, had orders to rush aft the moment they were summoned, and to look after the boats and those who might remain in her, and on no account to let them escape.
By the time all the arrangements were made, the boat was close to. Bowse examined her carefully. The crew were dressed as European seamen, and pulled in their fashion, though rather irregularly, and the uniform of the officers was perfectly correct, as far as he knew.
The boat dashed alongside without hesitation, and two of the officers sprung up on deck; the rest would have followed, but the two men at the gangway stopped them, in spite of gesticulations and strenuous endeavours.
“Messieurs, some one on board, I presume, speaks French?” said the principal of the two, taking off his cocked-hat, and bowing profoundly, with a glance towards the poop, where Ada sat.
“Moi—I do,” answered the colonel, with not the best pronunciation in the world. “Que voulez-vous, Messieurs?”
“I am delighted to find a gentleman with whom I can converse in a common language. My native German I judged would be hopeless,” observed the officer.
He was a remarkably fine-looking man, with a dark, curling moustache, and a free, bold manner. Now the colonel had studied German in the course of his military education, and spoke it well; he therefore immediately answered in that language.
The officer looked puzzled, and then laughingly said, “Oh! I must compliment you; but we will speak in French—it is the proper language for the intercourse of strangers—a mutual ground on which they meet. I have come to offer the services of my ship’s company in putting your vessel to rights; for I see that she has suffered severely in the gale, which has just passed.”