"Dis fog, maybe she keep up a week," grumbled Corny, overhauling the diving lines. "If de Jap sheep come, den look out!"
The stern of the wreck, which had been hidden at high tide, was again being uncovered. So thick was the fog that Dennis doubted the possibility of diving, but his doubts were soon set at rest. Corny and the skipper, each carrying lines, made a descent, and Corny returned with word that it was a "cinch".
Pontifex was still down, and Dennis was preparing to get into the suit as Corny vacated it, when of a sudden the voice of the Missus bit out from the waist.
"Keep quiet, all hands! Listen!"
Astonished, Dennis obeyed. Corny, beside him, stood with hand cupped to ear, slowly shaking his head. Nothing was to be heard, The fog was impenetrable.
"What did she hear?" murmured Dennis. The Cape Verde man shook his head.
"No telling. But nobody don't fool her—ah! Listen, queek!"
Dennis heard it then—an indistinct and muffled vibration, too slight to be called a noise, which was felt rather than heard. It came again and again, an irregular sound.
"It's de sail," said Corny. "De sail flap-flap in de wind—and dere's somet'ing else goin', too——"
"A boat's engine!" exclaimed Dennis softly.