“Yes.”
He turned his head over his shoulder and whistled, in a peculiar way. There was no reply. Then he bent down over the gunwale of the boat till his ear nearly touched the water, and listened.
“The boat has stopped. It must be near us.”
His whole body seemed quivering with attentive life, like a terrier’s when it stands to be unchained.
“Might it not be a fisherman?” asked Lady Holme.
He shook his head.
“This is not the hour.”
“Some tourists, perhaps, making an excursion?”
“It is too far. They never come here at night.”
His eyes stared, his attitude was so intensely alert and his manner so mysterious that, despite her desperate preoccupation, Lady Holme found herself distracted for a moment. Her mind was detached from herself, and fixed upon this hidden boat and its occupant or occupants.