And right before us, in a small indentation of the sand, we were aware of a boat lying high and dry, and right side up.
Nares crouched back into the shadow of the bushes.
"What the devil's this ?" he whispered.
"Trent," I suggested, with a beating heart.
"We were damned fools to come ashore unarmed," said he.

"But I've got to know where I stand." In the shadow, his face looked conspicuously white, and his voice betrayed a strong excitement.

He took his boat's whistle from his pocket.

"In case I might want to play a tune," said he, grimly, and thrusting it between his teeth, advanced into the moonlit open; which we crossed with rapid steps, looking guiltily about us as we went.

Not a leaf stirred; and the boat, when we came up to it, offered convincing proof of long desertion.