Next morning Mr. Greatorex made no allusion to this conversation, but was observed in close colloquy with Captain Bodgers. The result of this removed the weight from Tom’s mind. The yacht coasted up and down, the captain scanning the desolate shore narrowly through his glass. At last he found what he had been searching for, and steered the yacht into a snug little bay. The country was well wooded, the trees coming down almost to the edge of the narrow sandy beach. “Can’t better this, sir,” said the captain. “The anchorage is none too good, and if a storm comes up we may have to put out to sea; but it’s a quiet place, as you see; can’t do no better.” “Very well. Now, Tom, I’m going to risk it. There’s the _Country_ to consider, you see. But you’ll make me a promise not to run into danger; I know you won’t run away from it!” “With all my heart,” replied Tom. “We’ll start to-night.” He spent the hours of daylight in making preparations. The machine was overhauled; provisions and arms were stowed in the car; and Tom eagerly awaited the moment for setting forth on his adventure. In the afternoon, while the preparations were still in progress, a crowd of natives appeared on the cliffs south of the bay—wild-looking men clad in djellabas and kaftans and yellow shoes, and all armed with long guns. They made no attempt to open communication with the yacht, but encamped on the cliff as though to keep an eye on her movements. Some little time afterwards, a small native craft was observed entering the cove. Her appearance was hailed with shouts from the cliff, where there were signs of excitement among the throng of spectators. “Barbary pirates, eh, Bodgers!” said Mr. Greatorex, taking a look at the felucca through his glass. “Maybe, sir; they’ve plied that trade hereabouts for hundreds of years.” “They’re making for the yacht.” “Yes. We’ll serve out arms, sir; it’s as well to be on the safe side.” “Tom, cover up the airship. I don’t suppose they’ll know what it is, but, as Bodgers says, it’s as well to be on the safe side.” As the vessel drew near, it was seen that she carried some thirty fierce-looking fellows, tall and finely made. One of them hailed the yacht. Mr. Greatorex called Abdul to his side and bade him interpret. “Say they want to come on ship, sir—see the captain—do trade for guns and powder.” “What do you say, Bodgers? Shall we let a few of them come aboard?” “I would, sir. A few won’t do no harm, and if we can make friends of them, so much the better.”