"What's the matter?"
"If the smoke's coming out of there, then it's odds on that somebody's living in there. And they mightn't like you to butt in."
"Well, comrade, I'm cold and wet—surely they wouldn't refuse to let me come in and dry myself a bit?" He bent forward and yelled down into the opening. "Hullo, there! Anyone at home?"
There was no answer; he repeated the call.
"You see," he said to Jack, "there's nobody there. I'm going in, anyway. Coming?"
The five of them made their way through the narrow orifice which gave access to a cave of larger dimensions than they had expected. It was so dark that very little of the interior could be distinguished; the place smelt of tobacco, and there was a dying, smoky fire, which they could not fan into a blaze. Jack stumbled over a pile of bracken and a blanket.
"It seems to me that somebody's been here recently," he said. "In fact, they may get back at any moment."
"Not in this sea," returned Billy Faraday.
"All the same, it's probably a dirty old tramp, who'll hit the roof if he finds us here. I vote we get out—it's not very salubrious."
They returned to the beach, and sat down to watch the gradual subsidence of the storm. When Billy judged that the sea had gone down sufficiently, they put off and rowed for the College, which they reached about ten o'clock, under the fitful light of a moon that the clouds obscured from time to time. There was, they found, a good deal of high excitement at the school. During the storm, which had been quite exceptionally severe, the boys in the boat had been lost sight of, as it was impossible to see where they had gone; one moment, the telescope held them in plain view from the College—then, briefly afterwards, the blinding rain had sheeted down to conceal them entirely.