Still the crew of the Ebba prepared calmly to weigh anchor, and the Count d’Artigas did not appear to be in the least concerned at the orders of the authorities and at the consequences that would ensue, if Thomas Roch and his keeper, Gaydon, were found on board.

At last all was ready, the crew manned the capstan bars, the sails were hoisted, and the schooner glided gracefully through the water towards the Sound.

Twenty miles from New-Berne the estuary curves abruptly and shoots off towards the northwest for about the same distance, gradually widening until it empties itself into Pamlico Sound.

The latter is a vast expanse about seventy miles across from Sivan Island to Roanoke.  On the seaward side stretches a chain of long and narrow islands, forming a natural breakwater north and south from Cape Lookout to Cape Hatteras and from the latter to Cape Henry, near Norfolk City, in Virginia.

Numerous beacons on the islands and islets form an easy guide for vessels at night seeking refuge from the Atlantic gales, and once inside the chain they are certain of finding plenty of good anchoring grounds.

Several passes afford an outlet from the Sound to the sea.  Beyond Sivan Island lighthouse is Ocracoke inlet, and next is the inlet of Hatteras.  There are also three others known as Logger Head inlet, New inlet, and Oregon inlet.  The Ocracoke was the one nearest the Ebba, and she could make it without tacking, but the Falcon was searching all vessels that passed through.  This did not, however, make any particular difference, for by this time all the passes, upon which the guns of the forts had been trained, were guarded by government vessels.

The Ebba, therefore, kept on her way, neither trying to avoid nor offering to approach the searchers.  She seemed to be merely a pleasure-yacht out for a morning sail.

No attempt had up to that time been made to accost her.  Was she, then, specially privileged, and to be spared the bother of being searched?  Was the Count d’Artigas considered too high and mighty a personage to be thus molested, and delayed even for an hour?  It was unlikely, for though he was regarded as a distinguished foreigner who lived the life of luxury enjoyed by the favored of fortune, no one, as a matter of fact, knew who he was, nor whence he came, nor whither he was going.

The schooner sped gracefully over the calm waters of the sound, her flag—­a gold crescent in the angle of a red field—­streaming proudly in the breeze.  Count d’Artigas was cosily ensconced in a basket-work chair on the after-deck, conversing with Engineer Serko and Captain Spade.

“They don’t seem in a hurry to board us,” remarked Serko.

“They can come whenever they think proper,” said the Count in a tone of supreme indifference.

“No doubt they are waiting for us at the entrance to the inlet,” suggested Captain Spade.