The reply came from the angry officer of the other vessel in a torrent
of language reassuring as to her safety, but venomously strong.
The lights of another ship flashed by; then the steamer darted into the
narrow fairway between a fleet of vessels, big and little, the waves
washing against them, and bringing up an angry swarm of men, whose
shouts could be heard in a confused babble in the rear.
"What ship's that?" hailed a man in powerful tones.
There was no answer, and Frank felt a hand on his arm.
"We are the Customs--where are your lights?" followed in a faint hail
astern.
"Thank Heaven, we are past Gravesend. Now, sir, you may have your light
again."
She pressed the button, and the electric light shone over her lustrous
hair, revealing a sparkle in her glorious eyes and a flush on her
cheeks.
Frank looked at her, and forgot everything in amazement at her beauty.
"I dare say," she said, with a faint smile, "you are wondering who we
are?"
"I don't know," said he, "and I don't care, so long as I"--he meant to
add--"am with you," but he paused in time at the hint of a haughty
surprise in her eyes.
She looked at him steadily a moment with a glance that implied some new
interest, then, once more switching off the light, went out without a
word, closing the door behind her.
He listened and heard her voice on deck, when he again framed his face
in the port-hole.
The bow lights had been relit, and the ship had slackened something of
her tremendous speed.
"I wish to Heaven," said the Captain, "those funnels would not draw so
well. Just look at that shower of sparks; they'll give notice of our
coming."
"Why not slacken speed until you are close on the guardship?"
"That'll give 'em more time to prepare for us, but it's the best thing
to do."
Then followed a sharp signal to the engineer, and the speed was still
further decreased.
"Mr Webster, was she damaged at all by that brush?"
"Just a dent, sir; but she's all sound below."
"Douse the lights again. We'll keep close in on the port tack. Keep
your eye on the Kent shore, and tell the watch to be on the lookout for
the guardship."
For some time the ship slipped along through the dark waters without
another word being spoken.
"There's the signal, sir," sang out a voice, breaking in on the silence.
A rocket mounted afar off.
"Ay, I see it. It's as I feared. They've alarmed the guardship, and'll
be sending a boat to her. Suppose they catch us, madam, what yarn will
you spin?"
"They must not catch us."
"They may open fire."
"Whether they fire or not, we must get through. Couldn't we open fire,
too?"
Captain Pardoe laughed.
"We must depend on our heels, Miss Laura. If it came to knocks, the
guardship would blow us out of the water."
"How annoying!" was the truly feminine reply--a reply so inappropriate
that even Frank smiled, while Captain Pardoe chuckled audibly.
"Understand, Captain," she continued imperiously, "I will not be
captured, nor the ship, not if they have to blow it up."
"Ah, see that?"
A shaft of light shot into the sky, then dropped to the water and swept
swiftly from right to left.
"It's the search-light. The guardship is looking for us. Mr Webster,
step down to the engineer and tell him we'll want every pound of steam
he can give us when I signal him. We must get twenty-seven knots out of
her."
"Twenty-seven knots," thought Frank. "What ship can this be?" The
cabin seemed to grow unbearable as his excitement increased, and if
danger was to be encountered his place was by the side of this girl whom
Fate had thrown in his path.
Again the shaft of light, broadening from its base, shot out into the
darkness, and swept the water to its outermost fringe, where the gleam
mingled with the black night, reaching a few lengths ahead, where it
outlined a bare pole on the bank.
"Port your helm; put her over to the Kent shore," the Captain ordered
with lowered voice.
The vessel came round, and made across to the other bank.
The search-light swept round again, just as the vessel was near the
right bank, and the light shone over the deck, lighting up every detail,
before it passed on.
"Astern--full speed astern," roared the Captain down the speaking-tube;
"starboard your helm; bring her up on the old course."
The vessel backed out as the search-light flew back to the place she had
occupied, and then swiftly made over to the Essex shore, and at another
signal from the bridge darted into the shelter of the night.
Frank could hold himself no longer, but flung open the door, and after
groping about in the saloon, found the companion-way to the deck. There
was a broad white belt of light on his right, but all around and ahead
was darkness, intensified by the brightness so near.
"They'll find us in a minute," spoke the Captain, and Frank, turning,
saw dimly two figures on a bridge just ahead of two singularly low
funnels, from which poured dense volumes of smoke.
The shaft of light played about the further shore, swept out slowly to
mid-stream, then swept back again.
"Stand by, Mr Dixon," said the Captain, down the tube.
The guardship could now be dimly seen behind that glittering eye--a
blurr of spars and funnels about a mile up stream.
The light crept over the dark river in a broad track of gleaming silver,
came slowly nearer, then, in a blinding flash, shone over the vessel,
lighting up every man as he stood at his post, and bringing out the
girl's face in a startling pallor.
The bell sounded its sharp order, the engines answered quicker and
quicker, and the long, narrow ship seemed to leap forward, sending up a
shower of water, which sparkled in the light, and came aft like rain.
On she rushed--the flames springing from her funnels--the whole frame
and body of her vibrating, and the water hissing and splashing before
her bows and in her wake.
A ball of white smoke, which for a moment dimmed the flaming light,
belched from the warship, followed at fully half a minute by the sullen
boom.
"That's by way of formal notice," said the Captain; "by-and-by she'll
send a sharper summons; better go below, Miss Laura."
"I will stay here," she answered quietly.
The small ship was now abreast of the man-of-war, which had changed its
course and was steaming slowly ahead. On the left were the lights of
Southend, far ahead the revolving lights of the Nore lightship, and on
the port bows was the black hull and green and red lights of a huge
steamer.
"That's a stroke of luck," said the Captain. "We'll get on the blind
side of that ship, and that bulldog daren't show his teeth until we're
well clear both of Southend and the steamer."
The man-of-war fired another blank charge, but the long, low vessel
darted along, shifting her course until she came under the bows of the
big ocean steamer.
The search-light, however, soon picked her up beyond, and a minute after
there was another report, followed this time by the shrill scream of a
shell, than which there are few sounds more threatening. The shot flew
high, plunging with a splash far on the port side.
"They cannot hit us, Captain Pardoe, and we are rapidly leaving them."
"They are not trying, Miss Laura. That was just by way of being more
peremptory. In ten minutes we'll be beyond reach of their light, and
then there'll be another spell of safety, unless we are sunk. Hullo,
here comes another."
There was another sullen roar, and the gunner had determined on a closer
call, for the ball touched the water not a hundred yards off, then
ricocheted to the Essex coast.
"The next one will have us," growled the Captain.
"Steamer's lights ahead! Starboard bow!" hailed the lookout.
Eyes were taken off the following man-of-war, and strained into--the
darkness ahead, out of which presently there stood two lights.
"She's near us, Mr Webster, and thank your stars for a sound berth
to-night for that. We'll slip by on the port, and then get away under
her bulk. Do you think they see her?"
"No, sir; but the steamer 'll make the cruiser see her. She must be in
a rare state. Ah! there goes a rocket."
High into the black heavens ahead went a ball of fire, which presently
curved over and burst in a shower of blue.
"Looks like a navy signal, sir?"
"Very like. If she is, we're caught hard and fast."
"There's an answer from the warship, sir," said Frank, who had turned
his eyes aft.
"I wish I understood the game," growled the Captain, banging his fist on
the bridge rail. "Oh, she means it this time!"
A red tongue of flame leapt out, a great volume of white smoke; the
shot, keeping low, struck the water up, and then there was a loud crash,
followed by the whir of splinters.
Frank saw the dark figure at the wheel suddenly sink to the deck, and
without losing a moment he bounded down the narrow deck, seized the
handle as the wheel was beginning to revolve, and brought it round.
"She's paying off. What in thunder's up with the wheel?" roared the
Captain. "Mr Webster, take two men aft. Starboard your helm."
Frank put his weight in, and with every sinew straining, brought the
vessel round, just as, like a runaway horse that takes the bit in its
iron jaws, she had threatened to come broadside on.
"What's wrong here?" panted Mr Webster anxiously, as he reached the
wheel.
"Steersman hit," said Frank shortly; "carry him off. I'll manage this."
Mr Webster groped for the wounded man, drew him away, and then paused
to look up, for they were passing the vessel whose lights they had seen.
She was scarcely making any way, and the bulwarks were lined with pale
faces, among them those of many women.
"Thank Heaven, she's no cruiser; hurrah, boys, hurrah!"
The few hands took up the cheer, and the people on the deck above,
relieved from some nameless fear at seeing the dark ship slipping away,
responded with a feeble shout; the captain, from his lofty bridge,
sending a call through his hollow hands: "What's the meaning of this
foolery?"
"Ask the guardship," bellowed Captain Pardoe; "a little target practice.
Good-bye."
The little ship plunged into the welcome darkness, still maintaining her
terrific speed, and the search-light could not reach her.
Then the lights were lit, the wounded man carried below, and an
inspection made of the ship, when it was found that the iron bulwarks
had been pierced a little forward of the wheel.
"Send the steersman forward!" shouted the Captain.
Frank was relieved, and walked to the bridge.
"What's your name, my man?"
"Hume."
"What--the passenger? I gave orders to have you locked in. Never mind
that, sir; you did well, and I'm much obliged to you. You're welcome to
the run of the ship. That was a close shave, eh? If it hadn't been for
the mercy of that steamer we'd have been five fathoms under. You'd
better turn in now."
Frank lingered awhile to see whether the lady would appear, and then
went down below, where he saw her leaning, as it were, for support
against a saloon pillar, a handkerchief pressed to her forehead.
"It has been a trying night," he said gently.
"You had no right to leave your cabin," she replied--then swiftly
disappeared.
Frank looked down the narrow gangway, heard the bang of her door, and,
with his head up, and feeling mightily offended, entered his own tiny
cabin.
"She might have been civil, at least," he muttered.