H. Bedford-Jones

“ The boat touched the schooner's side and rocked. Forillon uttered a curse, half fell across the thwart, gripped at Trenchard to keep his balance. Next instant there was a rush of flame—the lantern, overturned, smashed, fired the oil.
What came then, came swiftly. Trenchard struck out, the blow sharp and quick as a whipcrack. Forillon gasped and sank down. Seizing the man, Trenchard shoved him into the spreading pool of flame, crushing and smothering with clothes and body the flickering flare; in a moment it was accomplished, and the last oil-flame died out. ”

“ Trenchard rose. “Very well. For the hospitality, I thank you. Come along, Forillon.”
They passed out. Ram Das let them into the street, and Trenchard started for the shore. The stars were glimmering; darkness was stealing over the land, although the bay was still faintly luminous. Trenchard put his hand under his shirt, where an automatic was slung. He looked down the bay to where the lights of the gunboat glittered, then glanced at the sky. There would be no moon for an hour at least. Everything looked like plain sailing. ”

“ Forillon, who faced a penal colony if caught, could not gain freedom by betraying Trenchard; from the very nature of the case this was impossible, even though the manner of the man had been a trifle queer. Still, men were apt to be queer when so circumstanced. It was not at all impossible, on the other hand, that the rubber-broker had given away the whole game to the authorities. In such an event the gunboat might be letting Forillon alone as a bait to catch Trenchard, might be waiting and watching for the schooner to show up, might be lying with steam up in order to act at a moment's notice. ”