The Nancy, as Ben had prophesied, had little difficulty in keeping in sight of the Mary, partly due to the fact that Pierre's boat did not use her engine and thus the propeller acted as a drag, and partly due to the light wind which was in the Nancy's favour.
The wind was south-west and the course the Mary had taken meant she would have to beat her way back to the land, when she changed her course. Up to nightfall they had no difficulty in keeping the Mary in sight, and they did it without getting near enough to her to excite too close an inspection. When dusk deepened into night, however, their task became more difficult, for the stay lights of the Mary were not visible from behind, and they had to rely on the light in her cabin to guide them.
The wind also began to show signs of freshening, and this adding to the Mary's advantage, threatened to take her so far ahead that she would be lost sight of in the growing density of the night.
At this period of their chase Ben was in the bow and Dare at the helm, both straining their eyes in the effort to keep the light in view. They wisely carried no lights themselves.
Gradually the form of the Mary was entirely hidden from them and the will-o'-the-wisp cabin light was the only evidence they had of her existence. The night was as black as can be imagined, due to the lack of a moon, and the wind was coming off shore in increasingly bad squalls.
They managed to keep the light in view for an hour or so, then what they had dreaded happened and they lost sight of it. It was now ten o'clock.
To their great joy, however, the Mary's port light suddenly came into view and realization of what had happened dawned on them. The Mary had swung off her course and was heading for the land.
They were about to imitate her when the port light suddenly went out and left them completely lost now as to the schooner's position.
Ben came running aft to Dare.
"She's doused her lights," he shouted. "We might have known they'd do it 'fore beatin' in to the land. We're done for."