Whitney launched the light dinghy and put an oar in the sculling notch when Dick joined him. The swell looked higher than it had appeared from the yacht, and as he heard it tumbling among the stones he wondered how they were to land. Besides, it was difficult to keep the lurching craft on a straight course. He stopped sculling when a weedy ledge of rock with a white wash running over it appeared in the gloom.
"Go on," said Dick. "Keep the reef to starboard. There's a cove. I've been here before."
Swinging past the ledge as an undulation rolled in, they were met by its broken recoil; but Whitney drove the craft through this, and a few moments later ran her on to a narrow beach. Quietly lifting the boat beyond the reach of the water, they made for the cliff. After a few yards they came to large, rough stones, and Dick stopped. Everything was quiet except for the splash of the surf, and the wall of rock rose above them, black and mysterious.
"We couldn't see anybody against that background," he said in a low voice; "and it's difficult to move quietly among these stones. I think we'll try the crag."
It took them longer to reach it than Whitney expected, but presently Dick stopped in front of a mass of fallen rock.
"Follow me close; the path isn't good," he said.
They went up carefully, feeling for a foothold among the stones, until they came to a ledge that ran upward across the face of the cliff. Whitney could see nothing below him, but he followed Dick, and after a while they reached a ravine filled with tangled grass and heath, which led them to the summit. Here they lay down behind a whinn bush and then Whitney understood why his companion had chosen the position. The moon was hidden, but the sea reflected an elusive light that distinguished it from the blackness of the land. Anybody moving along the beach would show against the glimmer of the water. Whitney could not see the Rowan, but Andrew had, no doubt, steered a course that would bring the island behind her canvas. It was, of course, possible that their landing had been noticed; but the dinghy was very small and the dull roar of the surf would have drowned the noise they made.
Turning quietly, Whitney looked inland across high, rolling ground. It was all obscure, but in the hollows there were gray patches, which he supposed were belts of mist, and two or three dim lights twinkled in the distance. Now and then a bleating of sheep and the whistle of a curlew came down the cold wind. There was nothing to rouse suspicion, and Whitney began to think of going back. Just then Dick touched him.
A shadowy figure showed against the water a short distance from where they had landed, and then a flickering beam of light fell upon the sea. It was too bright for an ordinary lantern, and Whitney could not see where it came from, but after a moment or two it was abruptly cut off.
"There's another cove behind the point and I think I know a way down," Dick whispered. "Come on as quickly as you can!"