The wind lulled, as the trough
of a squall passed over; he gave a few sharp orders. Moorings were cast
off, a pinch of sail was lifted forward. The big craft found her freedom
with a lurch and a stagger; then pulled herself together and left the
land with a steady rush, skimming dead before the wind across the smooth
upper reach of the harbor and quickly losing herself in the murk and
spray that hung off Kowloon Point. Lee Fu somehow managed to avoid the
fleet at anchor off Wanchi; straight down the length of the bay he
struck, and in an incredibly short time we had left the harbor behind
and were whirling through the narrow gut of Lymoon Pass before a
terrific squall, bound for the open sea.
"I watched Captain Wilbur. He stood carelessly at the rail during our
race down the harbor, scanning the boat and the water with an air of
confidence and unconcern. A sneer curled his lip; he had made up his
mind to see the nonsense through. The sailor in him had quickly
recognized that the craft would stand the weather in smooth water; he
probably expected any minute that Lee Fu would call it quits and put
into some sheltered cove.
"But when we shot through Lymoon Pass, I saw him turn and scrutinize the
Chinaman closely. Darkness was falling behind the murk, the real night
now; and ahead of us lay a widening reach among the islands that opened
abruptly on the main body of the China Sea.
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