Later that afternoon, as the Orinoco pounded along at a strictly processional pace through the ruffling waters,--the glass was falling and a breeze getting up,--Deputy-Quartermaster Lionel Hinchcliffe Welford-Welford Allerton, late scholar of Trinity College, Cambridge, sometime Assistant Deck-Hand in the mercantile marine, descried from his post on the bridge a small moving object upon the starboard bow. It was the Orinoco's whale-boat, which was proceeding under two lugsails on a course parallel with the steamer's. Allerton, who in the excitement of salving the Orinoco had almost forgotten the existence of the gang of buccaneers who had scuttled her, excitedly rang the telegraph bell and summoned the rest of the ship's company to his side. The emotions, however, aroused in the Orinoco by the sight of the whale-boat were mild in comparison with those excited in the undutiful whale-boat by the spectacle of her resuscitated parent. Mr. Angus, on beholding the steamer, kept discreetly silent. He had given himself away by seeing things which were not there once or twice in his life before. But Captain Kingdom turned a delicate apple-green. "Look there!" he gasped, pointing. "Yon bit cloud, ye mean?" said the cautious Angus. "No, no, man--the Orinoco!" cried the frantic skipper. "Oh--the shup! Aye, aye!" replied Mr. Angus, rather pleased than otherwise. "There's a crew on board her," continued Kingdom shakily. "And she's got steam on her, too!" "Aye," said Mr. Angus. "I doot somebody will have closed yon sea-cock again." "Who can it be?" demanded the captain feverishly. "Surely we left no one on board. I told Dingle to take that fellow Marrable in his boat." "Perhaps," suggested Mr. Angus, "yin of the other boats cam' back." Kingdom pointed impatiently to two small specks upon the horizon. "They're there," he said. "Maybe some liner has come across her and left a bit crew on board her," continued the fertile Mr. Angus. "If so, we'd have seen the liner," replied Kingdom irritably. He took up his binoculars and began to scrutinise the Orinoco, which had altered her course a few points in their direction. Mr. Angus had a fresh inspiration. "Did ye mind tae wauken Walsh?" he whispered. "If not, ye ken he micht weel--" The captain lowered his glasses, and nodded. "He might be one," he agreed; "but there are four men on deck." He raised his binoculars again. "Yes, there they are. Well, whoever they are and whatever the game is, we must get on board again and do the job properly this time.--Hallo, one of them is running below!--Here he is again!--He's carrying something--flags, I reckon. They're going to signal us." He was right. Up to the topmost summit of the Orinoco's grimy foremast travelled a signal--a banner with a strange device indeed, but conveying a perfectly intelligible message for all that. It consisted of the nether or unmentionable portion of a ragged suit of orange-and-red striped pyjamas.