For another five minutes Niven rowed desperately, his heart thumping and his breath coming in half-stifled gasps, while the boat plunged more viciously with the sea upon her bow. Then he missed his stroke as the moon came through, and Appleby could not check a little groan of dismay. They were close to the Aldebaran and could see her plainly as a cold blast drove the haze away, but she was well up on their weather instead of under their lee, and he knew it was beyond the power of any two worn-out lads to reach her against the wind.
"It's no use," said Niven hoarsely. "I can't do any more. Shout if you can, though we'd be out of sight before they could get the other boat over."
They made the most noise they could, but it is difficult to shout when exhausted by a strenuous effort, and it is more than possible that the splash of the sea and sighing of the wind drowned their strained voices. Nor is the low dusky shape of a boat easy to discern from a ship's deck on a hazy night. In any case, there was no answer, and for a minute the lads watched the three tall spars and strip of hull that rose black against the moon slide away from them—and that was the last they ever saw of the Aldebaran. Then another gust brought down the haze again, and while the smoky greyness drifted past them they were alone.
"I can scarcely pull," said Niven. "Do you think we could fetch ashore?"
"I don't," said Appleby with grim directness. "Still, we can try, and it's the only thing we can do."
They rowed for about twenty minutes, the splashing strokes growing slower while the plunging grew sharper, and then stopped again as the haze thinned a little. The blink of the barque's riding light was no longer perceptible, nor could they see anything of the shore.
"Well?" said Niven dejectedly.
Appleby laughed, though his voice was not mirthful and there was a curious tremor in it. "You wanted to leave the Aldebaran—and I fancy you've got your wish," he said. "We're blowing out from land, and there's quite a sea getting up."
"Yes," groaned Niven. "That's plain enough. What are we going to do?"
"I don't know," said Appleby. "It's not blowing much, and the proper thing would be to keep her lying head to with the oars until the morning. Then we'd see the land. If we kept pulling easy she wouldn't drift very much. The difficulty is that we're not fit to do it."