"Yes, on the westernmost peak. If you go round there, keep well clear of the reef."
"Aye, aye," shouted back the officer. "Much 'bliged."
Then he gave an order and the little craft sped back in the direction of its mother ship.
Moniz tugged at his moustache, aching to see the gunboat get under way. Soon her engines were throbbing. The moment the grey hull disappeared round the bend to the south, Moniz dropped into his small boat and, urging the crew on with words and blows, hurried to the shore. Even as he crossed the narrow stretch of water, he laughed aloud, for a thin mist was beginning to creep up from the north. Gossamerlike wisps of fog were drifting, spreading; Moniz knew that in half an hour they would form an impenetrable curtain. And it would not take him more than half an hour to accomplish the work he had to do.
Most of the stores he abandoned. Their value was inconsiderable. Anyway he regarded his neck as worth much more than their cost. But there were cases of canned goods, and a cache of ammunition and money. There was water on the schooner sufficient to last a week. Only one boat load did he dare to wait for, and the moment he drew alongside the schooner with that, he started bawling orders for the anchor to be heaved. Three minutes later, with her sails beginning to fill, she leaned
