Meanwhile, I had quite made up my mind as to the proper thing to do, and accordingly shaped a course by which, instead of running straight in, and so crossing the track of the searchlight beam, we edged away to the southward and westward, traversing the arc of a circle, and so just keeping outside the range of the beam. But of course this sort of thing could not go on indefinitely; to enter the harbour we must, sooner or later, get within the range of the light; and when we arrived within two miles of the harbour's mouth further concealment became impossible. But we had done not at all badly, for a ten minutes' rush would now see us where we wanted to be, if in the meantime we were not hit and blown out of the water. As we came within reach of the searchlight, I called down to the engine-room, enjoining those below to give the old packet every ounce of steam they could muster; and the engineer responded by calmly screwing down the safety valves, ignoring the fact that, by doing so, he risked the bursting of the boilers. This was no time for caution, and if the worn-out kettles would only stand the strain for another ten minutes, all might be well. Slowly the searchlight beam came sweeping round toward us, until it rested fully upon us. It swept on for a yard or two, switched back, paused for a few seconds, and then began to wave wildly to and fro, seemingly by way of a signal, while a solitary gunshot pealed out upon the air. Then the light came back to us, fully revealing the four steamers making their headlong rush for the harbour entrance.