“How will it be possible to get to Shark’s Island?” Jenny asked.
“By swimming,” Fritz declared. “Yes; I can swim there all right. And since father must have fled there in the long boat, I will bring back the long boat to take you all over.”
“Fritz,—dear!” Jenny could not refrain from protesting. “Swim across that arm of the sea?”
“Mere sport for me, dear wife, mere sport!” the intrepid fellow answered.
“Perhaps the niggers’ canoe is still upon the beach,” John Block suggested.
Evening drew on, and a little after seven o’clock it was dark, for night follows day with hardly any interval of twilight in these latitudes.
About eight o’clock the time had come, and it was arranged that Fritz and Frank and the boatswain should go down into the yard. They were to satisfy themselves that the natives were not hanging about anywhere near, and then were to venture down to the shore. In any case, Captain Gould, James Wolston, Jenny, Dolly and Susan were to wait at the foot of the tree for a signal to join them.
So the three crept down the staircase. They had not dared to light a lantern lest its light should betray them.
There was no one in the house below, nor in the out-houses. What had to be found out now was whether the men who had come during the day had gone back to Rock Castle, or if they were on the beach for which the canoe had made.
Caution was still necessary. Fritz and John Block decided to go down to the shore by themselves, while Frank remained on guard near the entrance to the yard, ready to run in if any danger threatened Falconhurst.