"Go straight on and then wait until I creep up on the other side," Andrew whispered.
They separated, and Whitney braced himself for a struggle as he moved softly forward. The man would no doubt be armed, but he must not get away until they learned who he was. Whitney set his lips as he neared the wreck. Andrew's footsteps had died away, and there was something that daunted him in the look of the dark mass of timber; but he went on, and presently stopped at the edge of a pool beside the vessel. He did not think anybody had left her as he approached. The man must be on board; but he must wait until Andrew came up. There was no sound but the drip of water and the wail of the cold wind; it was eerie and depressing to stand there in the fog; but at last he heard a cautious step and knew that his comrade had reached the opposite side of the hulk.
"Go ahead," he said softly; and scrambled up with a feeling of relief that the waiting was over.
He heard Andrew's heavy boots rasp upon the planks; but he reached the forecastle hatch first, and his nerves tingled as he dropped through it in the dark. He came down safely; but he did not hear the clatter of feet among the timbers he had expected. While he felt about, for fear an unseen enemy might seize him at a disadvantage, Andrew sprang down and the light of an electric torch flashed round the hold. It showed broken timbers, sand, and glistening pools; but that was all. They had wasted their efforts; nobody was there. Andrew moved about, holding up the torch, and then extinguished it as he came back to the spot beneath the hatch.
"Well," he said, "we're no farther forward."
"Could the fellow have seen us and slipped away?"
"Not on my side. The fog wasn't very thick, and I could see the wreck. I suppose you kept a good lookout?"
"Of course. Perhaps he saw us when we noticed him on the bank."
"It's possible, but not likely. We had only just left the gutter, and he was going the other way."
Andrew was silent for a minute.