He went through into the fore-cabin, found the steps, mounted softly, and pushed the heavy hatch by inches from the deep rim over which it fitted. He had to put out all his strength, but he made very little sound.
CHAPTER XVI
A Duel before Dawn
When Hughie had shoved the hatch far enough aside to allow his head and shoulders to pass, he went up one step higher and looked out. It was lighter. He could distinguish things on the deck for what they were, and see the water. He had hardly realized that, when he also realized something else.
A figure was standing on the counter holding to the little mizzen-mast, and pulling in the dinghy.
There was not a doubt of it. There she was. She must have been in the saloon when he passed in the dark. She had bided her time, slipped out and up the companion while he was shifting the hatch.
Hughie was exasperated; at the same time he generously admired her quickness of resource. She must not be allowed to succeed all the same. He squeezed up through the opening, got his woolly sweater caught on the big hook that clinched the fastening outside, released himself, losing valuable seconds, was on his feet and speeding along the deck in a few more--just too late!
He saw the slim dark figure descend into the dinghy with a reckless spring, and the boat drifted away as he reached the counter. It was an odd, shadowy drama, played out in the thick haze of dawn from which the night darkness was gradually peeling.
"Come back!" ordered Hughie with decision.
The girl was putting the sculls into the rowlocks quite deliberately; she knew she was safe, or, let it more truly be said, thought she was safe. The boat was rocking softly on a smooth heave, and going shorewards all the time.