Arms were outstretched with pointing fingers.  Someone shouted out a long sentence of which not a word could be made out; and then the brig, having reached the western limit of the bank, began to move diagonally away, increasing her distance from the yacht but bringing her stern gradually into view.  The people aft, Lingard noticed, left their places and walked over to the taffrail so as to keep him longer in sight.

When about a mile off the bank and nearly in line with the stern of the yacht the brig’s topsails fluttered and the yards came down slowly on the caps; the fore and aft canvas ran down; and for some time she floated quietly with folded wings upon the transparent sheet of water, under the radiant silence of the sky.  Then her anchor went to the bottom with a rumbling noise resembling the roll of distant thunder.  In a moment her head tended to the last puffs of the northerly airs and the ensign at the peak stirred, unfurled itself slowly, collapsed, flew out again, and finally hung down straight and still, as if weighted with lead.

“Dead calm, sir,” said Shaw to Lingard.  “Dead calm again.  We got into this funny place in the nick of time, sir.”

They stood for a while side by side, looking round upon the coast and the sea.  The brig had been brought up in the middle of a broad belt of clear water.  To the north rocky ledges showed in black and white lines upon the slight swell setting in from there.  A small island stood out from the broken water like the square tower of some submerged building.  It was about two miles distant from the brig.  To the eastward the coast was low; a coast of green forests fringed with dark mangroves.  There was in its sombre dullness a clearly defined opening, as if a small piece had been cut out with a sharp knife.  The water in it shone like a patch of polished silver.  Lingard pointed it out to Shaw.

“This is the entrance to the place where we are going,” he said.

Shaw stared, round-eyed.

“I thought you came here on account of this here yacht,” he stammered, surprised.

“Ah.  The yacht,” said Lingard, musingly, keeping his eyes on the break in the coast.  “The yacht—­” He stamped his foot suddenly.  “I would give all I am worth and throw in a few days of life into the bargain if I could get her off and away before to-night.”

He calmed down, and again stood gazing at the land.  A little within the entrance from behind the wall of forests an invisible fire belched out steadily the black and heavy convolutions of thick smoke, which stood out high, like a twisted and shivering pillar against the clear blue of the sky.

“We must stop that game, Mr. Shaw,” said Lingard, abruptly.

“Yes, sir.  What game?” asked Shaw, looking round in wonder.

“This smoke,” said Lingard, impatiently.  “It’s a signal.”

“Certainly, sir—­though I don’t see how we can do it.  It seems far inland.  A signal for what, sir?”