They climb on board, the little boat is made fast astern, a movement is felt, the screw revolves rapidly and the tug skims along the surface to Back Cup, skirting the reefs to the south.
Three cable’s lengths further on, another tortuous canal is seen that leads to the island. Into this the tug enters. When it gets close inshore, an order is given to two men who jump out and haul the dinghy up on a narrow sandy beach out of the reach of wave or weed, and where it will be easily get-at-able when wanted.
This done the sailors return to the tug and Engineer Serko signs to me to go below.
A short iron ladder leads into a central cabin where various bales and packages are stored, and for which no doubt there was not room in the hold of the schooner. I am pushed into a side cabin, the door is shut upon me, and here I am once more a prisoner in profound darkness.
I recognize the cabin the moment I enter it. It is the place in which I spent so many long hours after our abduction from Healthful House, and in which I was confined until well out at sea off Pamlico Sound.
It is evident that Thomas Roch has been placed in a similar compartment.
A loud noise is heard, the banging of the lid as it closes, and the tug begins to sink as the water is admitted to the tanks.
This movement is succeeded by another—a movement that impels the boat through the water.
Three minutes later it stops, and I feel that we are rising to the surface again.
Another noise made by the lid being raised.