Not a word was spoken, the great beads of sweat stood on their foreheads, their hearts throbbed in unison with every stroke. Presently Leycester saw the old man relax his stroke and bend peering over the boat, and suddenly he dropped his oar and sprang up, pointing to a dark object floating on the top of the waves. Leycester rose too, calm and acute enough now, and in another minute Jasper Adelstone was lying at their feet.
Leycester uttered no cry as his eyes fell upon the pale, set face, but he sank down in the boat and put his hands to his eyes.
When he looked up he saw the old man quietly putting his oar into its place.
"Yes, sir," he said, gravely answering Leycester's glance, "he is dead, stone dead; row back, sir."
"But the other!" said Leycester, in a whisper.
The old man shook his head and glanced upward at the cliff.
"He is up there, sir. Alive or dead, he is up there. He didn't fall into the sea or we should have met him."
"Then—then," said Leycester, his voice struggling for calm, "he may be alive!"
"We shall soon see, sir; row for life or death."