"Good night, sir," replied the sergeant. "Where's your riding light? We——"
The remainder of the sentence was lost in the howling breeze.
"Bring that riding-light down. I never knew the thing to play me this trick before," exclaimed Harry.
But with unaccountable obstinacy the lamp refused to burn.
"We must stand by till the launch returns," said Jack. "After that I don't think there will be any more traffic till morning. Besides we are close in to the edge of the mud."
Some minutes later the police-launch with the relieved men passed, and was lost to sight in the darkness. The hulk, too, was invisible in the blackness of the night. Except for the distant arc-lamps in Sandborough Dockyard, where men were working in successive shifts upon a battle-ship now nearing completion, the Spray was surrounded by a veil of impenetrable night.
"We may as well turn in," remarked Harry, "especially as we have to be up early if we are to catch the young flood."
"Going to leave the lamp in the cabin?"
"No, what for? It's rotten having to sleep with a light swinging to and fro three feet above your head."
Ere long Harry was sleeping soundly, but Jack lay awake upon his narrow bunk. Though used to the lap of the water against the yacht's side and the mournful moaning of the wind through the rigging, there was something—which he could not explain—that drove slumber from him. Even the ticking of the clock seemed to add to his inexplicable feeling of uneasiness.