They went on deck, we could hear them stamping about overhead. Then came an oath, and a quick movement. I thought they were coming down again, but a moment later there was the soft swish of oars, followed by silence.
"Carefully!" said Quarles, as I fumbled at the galley door. "One of them may have remained to shoot us from the top of the companion."
He was wrong, but it was more than probable that such an idea had occurred to them. They had discovered our dinghy! It had been cut adrift, and the scoundrels had escaped, leaving us isolated on the yacht. I snapped out a good round oath.
"Can you swim, Wigan?" asked the professor.
At full tide the creek was wide, and the sullen, rushing water had a hungry and cruel sound.
"Not well enough to venture here, and in the dark," I said.
"And I cannot swim at all," said Quarles. "We are caught until morning and low-water. It's cold, and beginning to rain. With all its defects I prefer the cabin."
He went below and declared that he must get a little sleep. Whether he did or not, I cannot say; I know that I never felt less inclined to close my eyes. We had been trapped, that made me mad; and I could not forget our gruesome companion behind the door of the aft cabin.
There was a glimmer of daylight when Quarles moved.
"This is nearly as good a place to think in as my empty room at Chelsea, Wigan. What do you make of the mystery?"