So the three set the skiff in motion, skirting the marsh-grass, till they came to where a narrow channel opened inland.
"Another one leedle more down," said Jean Marat; "maybe he come out thad one."
They had got the boat to within view of the opening of that next channel, when an object shot out from behind the grass.
"Down—queek!" spoke Marat, in a hurried whisper.
All ducked their heads and lay quiet for some minutes. Then they ventured to peer over the gunwale, and saw the canoe as a dark mass, moving steadily away down the bay.
"He didn't see us," observed Robert.
"No," agreed Marat, "fortunate' he did not look round."
There was little doubt as to Duran's destination, so the three made the passage leisurely down over the same route they had rowed that other night. And they turned the skiff up that same creek of the mainland. This time they were determined on a bolder move than before. They meant to risk discovery, and land with the boat on that little island, though under cover of night. Carlos and Robert—who, like myself, still retained his black-stained face and hands—were to remain in hiding throughout the coming day, and observe, if possible, how Duran should dispose of that gold he had taken from Carlos' mine. The while, Captain Marat would hold the skiff over at the mainland, ready to pick them up the following night, when Duran shall have departed from the island again.
They waited till midnight, and then rowed to the isle where Robert and Carlos disembarked.
"Two flashes will be the signal," said Robert in a whisper.