They were going dead on to the gunboat, which was steaming slowly across their bows, and it seemed to the breathless, expectant group that the next moment they would be cutting into her side, or more likely crumpling up and shivering to pieces upon her protecting armour. But there is something in having a crew of old man-of-war's men, disciplined and trained to obey orders in emergencies, and thinking of nothing else. The skipper had given his commands to his two look-out men, and in the imminence of the danger they were obeyed, for as Fitz Burnett gripped his companion's arm, involuntarily drawing him sideways in the direction of the bulwark, to make a leap for life, a sharp clear pipe, like the cry of some sea-bird, rang out twice, while the panting and quivering of the machinery and the churning rush of the gunboat's crew seemed right upon them. Suddenly there was a loud shout, followed by a yell, the report of a revolver, succeeded by the deep booming roar of a fog-syren which had been set going by the funnel, and then as Fitz Burnett felt that the crash was upon them, the roar of the fog-horn was behind, for the _Teal_ had as nearly as possible scraped past the gunboat's stern, and was flying onward towards the open sea. For a few moments no one spoke, and then it was one of the look-out men. "About as near as a toucher, that, messmate." "Ay, and I seemed to have no wind when I wanted to blow. Once is quite enough for a job like that." "Is it true, Poole?" whispered Fitz, and his voice sounded hoarse and strange. "I don't quite know yet," was the reply as the lad walked aft. "It seemed so impossible and queer--but it is, and, my word, how close!" CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. IN THE DARK. "Silence there!" came in a stern, deep voice. "Sound travels in a night like this." It was the speaker's ultra caution spoken in a moment of intense excitement in which he hardly realised how far they had left the gunboat behind. But his orders were obeyed, utter stillness ruling on board the schooner till they had visual proof that there was no necessity for such care. "What's that? Look!" whispered Fitz, as there was a faint lambent glare far astern, one which gradually increased, and Poole whispered back-- "They are burning a blue light." "Yes," said the skipper, who was still close at hand. "Know what that means, my boy?" "Well, I suppose it's to try if they can see us, father." "Not it," said the skipper sharply. "You know, Mr Burnett?" "I should say it's a signal, sir, to recall their boats." "Right, my lad; that's it; and that will take some little time, for I dare say they are spread all over the bay. She's not likely to have a consort; eh, Burgess?" "I should think not," was the reply. "No, I don't think we need trouble ourselves about that." "Right, then. Get well out into the offing, and then sail for south-east by south."