Sydney was silent. Far astern above the low fog a dark smudge had caught his eye.
“Smoke!” he cried out dejectedly. “If the fog would only shut in to stay!”
Phil called for a spy-glass, and looked long and eagerly at the dark mass hanging above a distant fog bank. The sailors and Impey, seeing that something was in the wind, had joined the lads, and all eyes were peering at the dreaded signs of a chasing vessel.
They were not left long in doubt. From out of the mass of fog bank a dark speck suddenly became visible, and before their eyes it grew until a four funneled destroyer stood clearly outlined. A white line of foam at its bow told of its great speed, and it was heading directly for the yacht.
“There’s an end to all our hopes,” Phil exclaimed sadly. “We can’t fight her, for we have no guns, and if we fought and lost they could treat us as pirates and swing us at the yard-arm.”
A flash from the bow of the destroyer followed by a hissing splash astern told of the newcomer’s invitation to “heave to” and “be spoken.”
“O’Neil, tell Captain Bailey to stop and wait,” Phil ordered dejectedly. “We can’t afford to run risks. These Japanese know how to shoot, I am told.”
The “Sylvia” very soon lay dead in the water, steam pouring from her escape pipes, while a gangway was quickly rigged and the midshipmen stood ready to meet the officer who they knew would soon pay them a visit.
The destroyer drew rapidly up on the motionless vessel, and was soon stopped alongside, rolling deeply in the swell, scarcely a hundred yards away. Phil with rapidly beating heart saw a small dinghy dropped from the destroyer’s boat davit and, with an officer in the stern sheets, pull quickly alongside the yacht’s gangway.
His face fell as he saw the officer was no other than Lieutenant Takishima. Here were more complications. Takishima knew only too accurately the midshipmen’s plans, for had they not invited him to share them?