"Well," he said, "we're no farther forward."
"Could the fellow have seen us and slipped away?"
"Not on my side. The fog wasn't very thick, and I could see the wreck. I suppose you kept a good lookout?"
"Of course. Perhaps he saw us when we noticed him on the bank."
"It's possible, but not likely. We had only just left the gutter, and he was going the other way."
"It would help us," he said "if we knew whether he could carry a wireless apparatus across the sands. I don't think it could be hidden on board."
"It might be buried outside in a watertight box. Shall we go dig?"
"No; we'd be seen from the shore, and a good glass would show what we were doing. In the dark we would have to use a lantern."
"That's so," Whitney agreed. "Well, as there's nothing doing here, let's get back."
They reached the dinghy before the tide flowed round her, and shortly afterward got on board the _Rowan_. The fog was thick and the wind blowing against them down the Firth, but Andrew decided to hoist no sail when they hove the anchor.
"It's early yet to find deep water, and I can steer her with an oar," he said. "We'll let the tide take her up."
He sounded now and then as the current carried her away, and Whitney wondered whether it would strand them on a thinly covered bank. Andrew had no guide except the depth and the hoarse murmur the stream made as it rippled across the shoals.
Suddenly Andrew began to scull vigorously.
"Not much water; I think we're too near the middle sand," he said.
The next minute the boat stopped with a jar and listed down on her side while the ripples splashed angrily against her planks. Whitney seized the boat-hook to push her off, but Andrew stopped him.
"She'll soon float, and the tide's not running very fast."
They sat in the cockpit to wait, and the noise the current made as it swirled round her died away. She was not quite afloat, however, and Whitney was picking up the boathook when a flicker of light shone through the fog. He raised his hand in warning to Andrew, and both saw the faint gleam go out.
Then a splashing sound grew louder, and a dim gray object drove toward them. Whitney knew it was a lugsail boat beating up the Firth, and he saw that she would pass at a few yards' distance if she stood on. So far, he did not think they had been seen, for the _Rowan's_ hull was low, and she had no sail set. While he waited in suspense he heard the splash of an oar as somebody sounded.