"I think she's close enough now. Tell her that we're going to send a boat."
While she was speaking a string of flags had broken out upon the mail boat,
Walworth read them through the glass he held in his hand.
"She wants to know our name."
"Reply, ' Yacht Sagittarius, owner Lord Melkard, from Rangoon to Nagasaki.' He is one of the directors of the company, and that will induce them to give us their immediate attention, or I shall be very much surprised."
She was quite right, for no sooner had the message been deciphered than another went up.
Again Walworth reported. This time it ran:
"Send your boat."
"Despatch the boat," said Alie.
Instantly Walworth and the tall man with the scar on his face, whose name I have said was Patterson, went forrard, and within three minutes Alie's own gig was manned and overboard. Walworth, I noticed, was in command of her, so I took up the glass he had left upon the skylight, and brought it to bear upon the mail boat, now less than a mile distant. She presented a handsome picture as she lay there, her great bulk riding upon the smooth water as securely as if it would be possible for her to defy the elements, whatever storm might rage.
With the aid of the strong glass I was using I could plainly distinguish her, and from the scarcity of passengers on her decks it was evident that something unusual was occurring on board. Presently our boat got along-
