The rain had ceased during the night, but the bottom-boards were awash. The masts and sails were still rolled up and stowed in a painted canvas cover. Beside them was a bundle of oars, and on top of them a rudder.
The fact that the boat was not under control stirred Peter to action. Having made sure that none of the rest of the _West Barbican's_ boats was in sight, he aroused the inert lascars.
"Hai! hai!" he shouted. "Aft, you hands, and set sail."
The men showed no great haste to execute the command.
"Lay aft, both of you," exclaimed Peter sternly, although in his weak state he found himself asking how he could enforce obedience. He knew enough of the native temperament to realize that if he gave a command and failed to see it carried out, his authority over the lascars was as good as gone for ever.
"Me tired," objected the other. "No _pani_, no _padi_."
Without another word Mostyn produced and ostentatiously displayed his automatic. There were great odds against its efficacy, after being submerged for several hours. The cartridges were supposed to be watertight, and were well greased. He had little fear on that score. The difficulty lay in the fact that the delicate mechanism of the pistol might have been deranged through the action of the salt water.
He felt confident that he could rely upon Mahmed. The boy was a devoted servant, and true to his salt. And Peter had no doubt about Miss Baird's ability to aid him if the lascars proved openly mutinous. For the present Preston was out of the running, while Mrs. Shallop was literally and figuratively a "passenger".
Greatly to Mostyn's relief the sight of the automatic acted like an electric shock upon the two lascars. With great agility and speed they began casting off the sail-cover and setting up the heavy mast.
While they were hoisting the lug-sail Mahmed shipped the rudder, and soon the boat was slipping along before the breeze.
Peter had been puzzling over the course for some considerable time. Against the westerly breeze he knew that days might elapse before the boat made the Mozambique coast. Being light and not provided with a centre-board, she was unable to sail at all close to the wind. In fact, it was doubtful whether she would make to windward at all. On the other hand, she would run well, and, with the knowledge that the island of Madagascar was somewhere under his lee--it might be anything between two hundred and four hundred miles--Mostyn decided that the best chance lay in making for it. There was, of course, a great possibility of several vessels being in the vicinity. If the boat were sighted, so much the better. If not--well, they would have to "stick it out" on very short rations.