"Now for the signals of distress," cried Carew; "bring up the flags."

The two flags of the international code--N and B--were hoisted to the gaff end, which indicate that a vessel is in need of a.s.sistance.

"They won't be able to see that for some time yet," said Baptiste. "Your signal flags are too small."

"Then rig up the long-distance signal," cried Carew. "It is a square flag at the masthead with something like a ball beneath it. Hoist the large ensign, and fasten the life-buoy to the mast; that will look like a ball."

The barque was now heading straight for the yacht. When she was about a mile off Carew loaded the small bra.s.s signal gun and fired it.

About a minute afterwards a wreath of smoke was seen to issue from the barque's side. Then the report of a gun was heard.

"We are safe now. They will pick us up," said Carew. "Hallo, there!

Inboard with that syphon at once, or the yacht will go down under our feet."

The men had been watching the approaching barque so intently that they had not observed how low in the water their own vessel now was. The cabin was three parts full, and all the movable articles in it were afloat. The syphon was brought on board, and they waited yet a little longer before taking the final step; for the wind had fallen light again, and the barque was making but slow progress towards them.

"Up goes some bunting yonder," said El Chico.

Carew looked through the telescope, and saw that the vessel had hoisted the signal H F, which signifies, "We are coming to your a.s.sistance."

"Now, then, all hands tumble into the dinghy," said Carew, as, seizing the cords, he pulled both plugs out of the yacht's side. "Good-bye, old _Petrel_!" he cried, leaping into the boat after his men. "Now, pull away, lads."

Carew's experience in scuttling vessels was naturally limited, so he had miscalculated the rapidity with which an already water-logged craft will go down if two large auger-holes are opened in her sides.

The men had not pulled a couple of strokes before the yacht's bow rose suddenly, her stern dipped, and she sank with a gurgling sound. So near was the dinghy that she narrowly escaped being sucked into the vortex.

They rested on their oars and gazed silently at the spot where the smart little yawl that had been their home for so long had floated but a moment before. Then, as the water smoothed over her grave, they looked over the side of the dinghy and beheld a strange sight. With all her white sails set and her flags still flying, the _Petrel_ went slowly down, with a gentle, oscillating movement, into the depths of that marvellously pellucid sea. Two sharks accompanied her, swimming round and round her; one thrust his evil snout for a moment into the cabin hatchway, as if to see if there were men below. Lower and lower the yacht descended into depths where the sharks could not support the increasing pressure of the water, so, deserting her, swam upwards; still lower, till she appeared no larger than a toy boat, and they could still distinguish her; still lower, and at last she disappeared into the blackness of the still, under ocean.

CHAPTER XII

Carew gazed silently downwards into the clear, dark sea for some moments after the yacht had sunk entirely out of sight; then, raising his head, he looked towards the barque, and saw that she was lying hove-to, with her mainyard laid aback, about a quarter of a mile distant.

"Pull away, lads," he said. "Let us get on board the Frenchman, and don't forget that we ran into a bit of wreckage last night and so sprang a leak. Say as little more as you can help, and don't give conflicting accounts of our accident."

They soon came alongside the vessel, and clambered on to her deck by a rope's end that was lowered to them. The captain of the barque gave the order to sling the dinghy on deck and square away again.

This being done, he turned to Carew and said in French, "I am very happy, sir, that I was so near at hand when your vessel sank. She went down very suddenly. Pray what was the cause?"

Carew gave the very probable explanation of the mishap which had been decided on.

"You must have run into that bit of wreckage with considerable force,"

said the captain. "What was it--a large spar?"

"Something of the sort, I imagine," replied Carew; "but we could see nothing. It must have been floating just below the level of the water."

"It is a lucky thing for you that this happened so near to the Brazilian coast and in the track of shipping, instead of in the middle of the Atlantic. You should have under-girded the vessel when you found that she had sprung so serious a leak."

"So we did," broke in Baptiste. "We got a jib under her bows. But it was no good. She was strained along her whole bilge. I wonder she did not fall to pieces."

"Let me introduce myself to you," said Carew. "My name is Allen. I was the owner of the unfortunate little yacht which is now so far below us.

I think I recognise your vessel. Were you not lying near us under Villegagnon?"

"That is quite right, sir, and I recognised your yacht as soon as I saw your signal of distress. My name is Captain Mourez, and this is the French barque _La Bonne Esperance_, bound for Swansea. And now, sir, what would you like me to do with you and your crew? I see smoke ahead, which should come from some steamer bound for Rio. Shall I signal her and put you on board, or do you feel inclined to come on with us to Swansea?"

Carew did not look in the captain's face, and his voice shook as he replied, "I should esteem it a great favour, Captain Mourez, if you would allow us to be your pa.s.sengers as far as Swansea. I will of course repay you for this when we reach England."

"Say nothing about that at present," replied the captain proudly. "You can do what you think proper when you reach port. A French sailor is always glad to a.s.sist other sailors in distress without the inducement of a reward for doing so."

The boastful speech of the patriotic captain stated no more than the truth. French sailors rarely hesitate to risk their lives at sea in going to the rescue of their fellow-men; in this respect differing considerably from the mariners of some other European nations, who have acquired an unenviable notoriety for a selfish indifference to the sufferings of others.

The captain looked from Carew to Baptiste. He could distinguish from the latter's accent and appearance that he was no common sailor. "This gentleman is your friend, I suppose?" he said.

"My friend, and the mate of the yacht," replied Carew. "I was my own captain."

"I see that you are a genuine English yachtsman. But surely this is a French gentleman?"

"No, Captain Mourez," broke in Baptiste quickly; "I am an English subject, but I am a Creole of the Mauritius, and of French origin.

Permit me to introduce myself. My name is Baptiste Fortier."

"Very well," said the captain. "We can find room for your two men in the forecastle. You, Mr. Allen and Mr. Fortier, will occupy cabins aft. We have plenty to spare. Come below and I will show you round."

They entered the saloon--a s.p.a.cious one for a vessel of her size. There were four cabins on each side of it. Only two of these were occupied; one by the captain and another by his mate. Two others were now placed at the disposal of Carew and Baptiste.

The captain made his two guests sit down with him at the saloon table, and produced a bottle of Bordeaux for their refreshment. The mate of _La Belle Esperance_ soon came below and joined the party. Though no drunkard, he was never far away when there was a drawing of corks. His name was Duval; he was a wiry, red-headed Norman, somewhat hot-tempered, but very garrulous and merry. Captain Mourez was a tall, handsome man, with black hair and beard, a Breton by birth, taciturn as a rule, but very courteous in his manners.

While these four were sitting in the saloon talking over the wreck of the _Petrel_, there was suddenly heard the sound of something falling heavily on the deck just overhead; then a cry and a scuffling of many feet.

Duval hurried on deck to learn what the noise signified. Shortly afterwards he returned again. "It is that imbecile young apprentice, Halle, again. What an awkward cub it is! He has fallen from the mizzen rigging this time; not from a great height, luckily. He has not hurt himself seriously, but he seems rather sick and dizzy."

The crew of the _Petrel_ were soon at home on their new vessel. El Toro and El Chico were made much of by the kindly Frenchmen in the forecastle. As luck would have it, none of the crew of the barque understood Spanish; so the two Spaniards, who knew no French, had not to reply to questions as to the details of the yacht's misadventure. El Toro especially, whose dense head was entirely devoid of imagination, would have been certain to come to grief in attempting to lie in an ingenious and consistent manner.

In the afternoon the loquacious Norman mate insisted on taking Carew and Baptiste all over the vessel and showing them everything. He was gratified by the keen interest the two pa.s.sengers seemed to take in his explanation. They listened attentively to all he said, for reasons of their own. They learnt that the vessel's company, officers included, numbered seventeen souls; that there was no second mate, but that the boatswain took the port watch and lived with the carpenter in the small deck-house.

Duval also took them into the forecastle, where some of the watch off duty were sleeping at the time. Among them was the young apprentice who had fallen from the rigging. He was tossing about restlessly in his bunk, and his face was very flushed.

Baptiste as he pa.s.sed by glanced casually at him, then scanned his face earnestly for some time. "Come out of this," he said to Carew. "It is too hot down here. Let us go on deck."

That evening the wind freshened considerably, and the barque, with yards braced up, was making good way through the water. Carew, unable to sleep, came on deck shortly before midnight, and sat down in a dark, quiet corner to meditate. Now that the excitement of the preliminary preparations was over, he began to realise to the full what was before him; and an intense abhorrence of the crime he had undertaken once more oppressed his soul. He could not retreat now. He must be the cause of the death of all these innocent men, who had come to the rescue of his life. If he spared them he would be carried on to England to pay the penalty of his offences.

As he sat brooding thus miserably, a man walked towards him from the fore part of the ship. Carew saw the red glow of his cigarette before he could distinguish the man in the darkness, and he knew that it was his evil genius.

"Baptiste, is that you?"

"Here I am, captain. A lovely night, is it not?"