Fred and Will had examined it through field-glasses from the top of the rock, and were optimistic 'regarding its size and general condition.
"Even if it leaks rather badly," said Will, "we could reach some island, and beach it there, and caulk it." "How about that launch, that brought the professor and Lady Saffren Waldon ?" I asked.
"What about it ?" "Couldn't they follow us with that ?" "You bet they could!" said Will.

"We've either got to spike the launch's boilers, or give them the complete slip on a dark night!" "We might steal the launch!" suggested Fred, but that was too wild a proposal to be taken seriously.

The launch was the apple of the German governmental eye, and the engine crew slept on it always.
The prospect was unpromising as ever, yet I went to bed and listened to the strains of Fred's concertina in the next tent with less foreboding than at any time since reaching Muanza, and fell asleep to the tune of Silver Hairs among the Gold, a melancholy piece that Will liked to sing when hope or courage stirred him.
I was awakened near midnight of a moonless black night by a hand on my bedclothes and the light of a lantern in my eyes.
"Hus-s-s-h!" said some one.

"Don't speak yet! Listen!" It was a woman's voice, and it puzzled me indescribably, for a sick man's wits don't work swiftly as a rule when he lies between sleeping and waking.
"Listen!" said the voice again.

"I must come to terms with you three men! You are the only hope left me! I have no friends in Muanza--and none whom I trust! Those Greeks and that Goanese would sell me to the first bidder, and these Germans are worse than dogs!" "But who are you ?" I asked stupidly.
For answer she held the lantern so that I could see her face.