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She would be standing there, wet with the dew, searching with all her eyes. Doubtless she had waited patiently at her post from the instant land came into sight. Seized by a sudden panic lest she pass him unnoticed, he ordered his launch near the yacht's course, where he could command a view of her cabin doors and the wicker chairs upon her deck.
Two bells came, and with it the stewards to lay the table for second breakfast, or luncheon, on the yacht's deck-house; and as three bells struck, the little party drew in round the "hospitable board" and sat down to their mid-day meal.
"Here you," he shouted to a sailor, "bring Jones here at once." Jones was the yacht's expert signaller. He approached with a telescope and a code under his arm. After a prolonged gaze and a careful scrutiny of the code, he announced "This is how the message reads: 'Turks on board. Stopping Messina. For once the barrister was startled out of his usual quiet self-possession.
It's our only hope!" To Captain Sumner it looked as if the Dart would surely be crushed. "Be prepared to jump!" he sang out again. But even as he spoke a strong gust filled the yacht's topsails. She plunged forward. The starboard berg was left behind, and the sea on that bow was open. Bok instantly shifted the helm. The Dart's head fell away from the danger on the port bow. A few minutes passed.
"There was a trouble last year in the Ishigaki Jima Islands where a poacher beat off the Oyama. It was a desperate fight." Captain Selover's eye lit up. "I've commanded a black brigantine, name of The Petrel," he admitted simply. "She was a brigantine aloft, but alow she had much the same lines as the Laughing Lass." He whirled on his heel to roll to one of the covered yacht's cannon.
Some of the members would be required to carry on the propaganda in other countries, Russia, for example. They all knew what that meant ! As he climbed the ladder by the yacht's side, and swung himself onto the deck, the girl ran up to him with outstretched hands, her white skirts fluttering behind her in the wind.
If old Jorgenson hears it, that fire will be out before you have time to turn round twice. . . . In a minute, Mr. Carter." The yacht's boat had come alongside as soon as the brig had been brought up, and Carter had been waiting to take Lingard on board the yacht. They both walked now to the gangway. Shaw, following his commander, stood by to take his last orders.
Dat's whar I takin my lesson." "Sho, gen'l'muns! 'pears to me lak you don't nebber go on er deep-sea v'yge whar you gets de genuwine joe-flogger, an' de plum-duff, an' sich like," said Nimbus, the yacht's cook. "Ef you had, you wouldn' talk."
A random breeze just sprung up had borne her so far, and now she lay becalmed, carrying, without doubt, a pleasure-party, inspired by some vague interest in ruins, and a very real interest in lunch; or the yacht's destination might be Kilronan Abbey, and the priest wondered if there were water enough in the strait to let her through in this season of the year.
In the gig sat J. Pinkney Hare and his sister, Mrs. Marne, blithely coming to lunch aboard with their two new friends. The yacht's return to Hunston had been in all ways different from her going.
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