I already had the boat swung round, and in reversing the course I lost
the _Stiletto_, which clung to the island shore; but I saw now quite
plainly the rowboat Ijima had reported as following us. It hung off
about a quarter of a mile and its single occupant had ceased rowing and
shipped his oars as though waiting. He was between us and the strait
that connected the upper and lower lakes. Though not alarmed I was
irritated by my carelessness in venturing through the strait and
anxious to return to the less wild part of the lake. I did not dare
look over my shoulder, but kept talking to my passengers, while Ijima,
with the rare intuition of his race, understood the situation and
indicated by gestures the course.
"There's a boat sailing through the green, green wood," exclaimed
Helen; and true enough, as we crept in close to the shore, we could
still see, across a wooded point of the island, the sails of the
_Stiletto_, as of a boat of dreams, drifting through the trees. And as
I looked I saw something more. A tiny signal flag was run quickly to
the topmast head, withdrawn once and flashed back; and as I faced the
bow again, the boatman dropped his oars into the water.
"What a strange-looking man," remarked Miss Pat.
"He doesn't look like a native," I replied carelessly. The launch
swung slowly around, cutting a half-circle, of which the Italian's boat
was the center. He dallied idly with his oars and seemed to pay no
heed to us, though he glanced several times toward the yacht, which had
now crept into full view, and under a freshening breeze was bearing
southward.
"Full speed, Ijima."
The engine responded instantly, and we cut through the water smartly.
There was a space of about twenty-five yards between the boatman and
the nearer shore. I did not believe that he would do more than try to
annoy us by forcing us on the swampy shore; for it was still broad
daylight, and we were likely at any moment to meet other craft. I was
confident that with any sort of luck I could slip past him and gain the
strait, or dodge and run round him before he could change the course of
his heavy skiff.
I kicked the end of an oar which the launch carried for emergencies and
Ijima, on this hint, drew it toward him.
"You can see some of the roofs of Port Annandale across the neck here,"
I remarked, seeing that the women had begun to watch the approaching
boat uneasily.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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