“Indeed! What sort of sound?”
“The plashing o’ oars. There wor sartin another boat about there, besides this one.”
“In what direction did you hear them?”
“From above. It must ha’ been that way. If’t had been a boat gone up from below, I’d ha’ noticed the stroke again, across the strip o’ island. But I didn’t.”
“The same if one had passed on down.”
“Just so; an’ for that reason I now believe it wor comin’ down, an’ stopped; somewhere just outside the backwash.”
An item of intelligence new to the Captain, as it is significant. He recalls the hour—between two and three o’clock in the morning. What boat could have been there but his own? And if other, what its business?
“You’re quite sure there was a boat, Wingate?” he asks, after a pause.
“The oars o’ one—that I’m quite sure o’. An’ where there’s smoke fire can’t be far off. Yes, Captain, there wor a boat about there. I’m willin’ to swear to it.”
“Have you any idea whose?”