The rain was worsening…Halfhyde was reminded of his honeymoon, as much a misnomer as to call hungry men convicts. It had rained in Scotland and to be confined indoors had brought no solace. Even if Mildred had been disposed towards consummation of the marriage, she would have bridled at such a thought in daytime. It would not be seemly; the cloak of darkness was more respectable. The boat trip across Loch Lomond had taken place during a bright day when the mists had vanished, but it had been damp, and Mildred had complained about the boat’s thwarts transferring the moisture to what she referred to as her sit-upon. Halfhyde grinned at the thought of his coarse response to that euphemism, which had been uttered with a blush, a very daring remark that he had hoped might have been intended to indicate a thaw. Not so; Mildred had become huffy and even more withdrawn and she hadn’t spoken for the rest of the day. Halfhyde found himself hoping it was raining now in Portsmouth, or Newmarket if Mildred was there still. More than her sit-upon would be wet if she were riding, but then so long as a horse was available she didn’t mind the weather…Mildred had been born with the wrong form; she should have been a mare, but if she had would no doubt have galloped at speed from the sight of a stallion.
The water beneath the boat was deepening now, deepening fast, and the land was opening out towards the sea. Halfhyde was about to hail the steamer when he was himself hailed by Graves.
“We’re through, Mr Halfhyde! All safe now.”
Halfhyde waved. “I’ll return and come alongside for hoisting, sir.” He paused. “Is there any sign of von Merkatz outside, or the Aysgarth Falls?”
“No sign of von Merkatz, but there’s a full-rigged ship coming into view from easterly. I can’t identify her.”
Halfhyde waved again. The ship could be anything, making into the Brisbane River to the south, though it was doubtful if she would make her landfall quite so northerly if Brisbane was her destination. He let the boat drift as the Tacoma came up; the crew hooked on to the falls and the boat was hoisted and secured to the davits. Halfhyde made his way to the bridge.
Graves pointed out the sailing ship, still distant. Halfhyde studied her through a telescope. “I believe it’s Captain McRafferty, sir, though I can’t yet be certain. If it is…”
“This is where the trouble starts,” Graves said. “You can rely upon my assistance, Halfhyde.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m grateful. Now we must watch for von Merkatz.”
Graves said, “He’ll know nothing about the Aysgarth Falls. He’ll not be taking any particular notice of her—”
“But she will of him if he emerges, as we said earlier. Once the cruiser’s spotted, Jesson will see to it that the Aysgarth Falls fades away again to sea.”
“Von Merkatz won’t follow, presumably?”
“No. For the same reason as we’ve just mentioned—she’ll appear harmless enough so far as he’s concerned. For us—I suggest we go astern a little way, sir, until we’re hidden again by the land. We can keep a watch from the fore royal yard—there should be a clear view across the spit of land, I fancy.”
“And if the windjammer turns away—”
“Then I shall assume it’s the Aysgarth Falls and that von Merkatz has been spotted. Captain McRafferty—or Jesson—shall be our distant lookout!” Halfhyde rubbed his hands together; there was the light of battle in his eyes now. “If she turns away, we chase—and pray that we’ll have a fair start on von Merkatz!”
Chapter 16
BULLOCK HAD gone below to report the sighting of land to the passenger.
“Is it all clear?” Jesson asked from the cabin doorway.
Bullock nodded; he was unaware of the presence of the Tacoma and the German cruiser, both of them well concealed in the lee of Breakup Island. “Not a ship in sight—so far,” he said. “We’re bound to pick up someone sooner or later, making in or out of the river.”
“I don’t doubt that. Tell McRafferty he’s to get in the lee of the land as fast as he knows how.”
“It’s up to the wind,” Bullock said and turned away. Then he turned back. “How’s Miss McRafferty?”
“She’s all right. Are any of the hands getting nosey?”
“I don’t think so,” Bullock answered.
“Get back on deck, then, and keep it that way. Just a moment, though, something you can do. Get along to my cabin and bring all my gear in here. All the leather bags.” Steel came into the voice. “All of them, mind. When the time comes, you’ll load them into the boat, the one that puts me ashore behind Breakup Island.”
“How are you going to hump ’em once you reach the mainland?”
Jesson said shortly, “I’ll see about that when the time comes. Now go and get the gear.”
Bullock left the cabin, closing the door behind him. The bags were heavy; Jesson was going to have a hard task,
