He was not mistaken. The pebbles sounded under the tread of feet.
He stood up, and balanced himself in the boat on his oar, and drew his brows together and set his teeth.
He peered into the fog, but saw no one.
But—was that the sound of one pair of feet that approached?
Then he uttered an angry, disappointed growl. He had distinguished voices.
Next moment from out the envelope of vapour emerged Winefred and Jack Rattenbury.
'Take my hand,' said the latter. 'The wood is slippery.'
'I can steady myself, unassisted,' answered the girl; and she went forward on the plank.
Then it yielded; she uttered an exclamation and caught Jack's hand.
'But for this,' said he, 'you would have been soused in the tide.'