The two policemen followed his instructions, one taking his place at the extreme end of the point, the other following just as voices were heard, and a group of fishermen, who had been awakened to the fact that there was something wrong, came down the rocky breakwater.
“Here, some of you, I want a boat—a swift boat, and four men to pull. Ah, you!”
This to a couple of the coastguard who had put in an appearance, and after a few hurried words one party went toward the head of the breakwater, while another, full of sympathy for the Vines, went on to the end of the point.
There was plenty of willing help, but George Vine had now recovered from his swoon, and rose up to refuse all offers of assistance.
“No, Luke,” he said more firmly now; “I must stay.”
“But our child, Louise?”
“She must stay with me.”
Louise had risen to her feet, as he spoke, and clung to his arm in mute acquiescence; and once more they stood watching the star-spangled sea.
Ten minutes later a well-manned boat passed out of the harbour, with the detective officer in her bows and a couple of the strongest lights they could obtain.
Just as this boat came abreast of the point the rowing ceased, and a brilliant glare suddenly flashed out as the officer held aloft a blue signal light; and while the boat was forced slowly along he carefully scanned the rocks, in the expectation of seeing his quarry clinging somewhere to their face.