"How many Chinese do you reckon were on board?" he asked.
"Four—including the last arrival, described as a gentleman," I answered.
"And two English?" he inquired.
"One Englishman, and one Frenchman," said I. "My belief is that the Chinese have settled the other two—and then possibly settled themselves, among them. There's one man somewhere in these woods. Whether he's a Chinaman we can't say—we couldn't make out."
He stared at me wonderingly for a moment; then turned and looked at the yawl. Evidently the blue-jackets had succeeded in checking the fire; the flame had died down, and the smoke now only hung about in wreaths; we could see figures running actively about the deck.
"There may be men on there that need medical assistance," said Lorrimore. "Where's this boat you mentioned, Middlebrook? I'm going off to that vessel. Two of you men pull me across there."
"I'll go with you," said I. "I left my boots in the cabin—I may find them—and a good deal else. The boat's just along here."
The search party was a mixed lot—a couple of local policemen, some gamekeepers, two or three fishermen, one of Mr. Raven's men-servants. Two of the fishermen ran the boat into the water; Lorrimore and I sprang in.
"This is the most extraordinary affair I ever heard of," he said as he sat down at my side in the stern.
"You didn't see all these Chinamen? Miss Raven says that you actually suspected my man Wing to be on board!"