"Oh, that's all right," Jack answered in the same key. "He won't. He's fond of North Haven; it's an old stamping-ground of his, and he'll never go on without having had at least one night's bridge here. That's part of the cruise. Besides, it's going to be thick, or I'm a duffer."
Thick it certainly was next day. The brisk southeasterly breeze that blew through the Thoroughfare all day seemed to roll in white billows of fog far more rapidly than it could take them out at the other end. The strait acted as a sort of condenser, in which the mist became almost tangibly more solid, until at nightfall it was, as one of Castleport's men put it, "blacker 'n a tar-bucket." Under cover of the obscurity Jack had had the market-boat reloaded with such necessities as they had brought over for their camp, and rowed silently over to one of the Casino floats. Here he and Taberman got out, and then the men, by his orders, worked the boat into concealment between the spiles of the wharf, there to await further orders, utterly invisible in the fog.
The two arch-conspirators mounted the wharf, and for some time kept watch to see if any one came ashore from the Merle; but as the time wore on to half-past seven they concluded that the President must be dining on board. Assured of this, Jack left Jerry to keep watch, and went up to the village bakery for food, dinner for himself and his friend having been forgotten in the midst of more important things. Tab, left alone in the wet darkness, had mounted to the balcony, and there sat in gloomy state, wondering if Jack were never coming back. He had no light by which to see his watch, but since he had heard seven bells from the Merle he felt sure that eight o'clock must be close at hand, when his attention was caught by the sound through the fog of the quick thud-thud, thud-thud of oars against thole-pins. In an instant he was thoroughly alert, his senses primitively acute, and his growing sensation of vague depression utterly dispelled. He heard some one pull hastily to the "Fo'c'sle;" the muffled chugging of the oar-blades as the rower held water; the gentle slapping of the boat's wash against the float; and then the clatter of the oars on the thwarts. Then by the dim light of the lantern at the end of the pier he saw a man spring on to the east float and secure his boat; give a quick, nervous tug at the painter to be sure that it was fast, and disappear from the field of vision which was bounded by the edge of the sloping roof. He fancied he heard a murmur as if the newcomer spoke a word of encouragement to the sailors in damp concealment under the wharf, and then had hardly time to wonder where Jack had been in a boat, before Castleport had run lightly up the plank from the float to the pier, and thence up the steps to Tab's place of concealment.
"Sit tight!" whispered Castleport breathlessly.
"What's—" began Jerry.
"Sh! We've the chance of a lifetime! I—I"—He gasped for breath, but caught it with a great gulp, and hurried on. "I've been aboard, Tab! Come in, man! Get back, get back!" He forced his friend into a seat in the farthest corner of the little balcony, caught his breath again, and began to chuckle. The sound of oars was again audible,—this time the steady, measured stroke of a heavy boat well pulled.
"Here's Uncle Randolph," cried Jack with a sort of whispered shout. "Here's Uncle Randolph!" And seizing his friend by the shoulders, he shook him and banged his head noiselessly against the wall for sheer glee.
"Stop, Jacko, stop it! Hold up, or by Jumbo I'll yell! Look there! Here they are."
As the pair hurried cautiously to look out over the edge of the balcony, a large cutter, pulled by six men, came out of the fog into the dim illumination of the pier-light. Three gentlemen in light overcoats were visible in the stern-sheets, the one in the middle steering. A little removed from the President and the two men who were evidently his guests, sat one of the officers of the Merle.
"Way enough," called the steersman in a sharp voice.