The few sharp quick words of the girl betrayed volumes. Her
suggestion was indeed startling; and, what was more; there was
not only a possibility, but a probability that her suspicion
was correct.
A silence followed her words, but at length the detective said:
"I shall go off on the yacht, Renie."
"And you will never return!"
"Yes, I shall return."
"Suppose my suspicion is correct, and those men are leading
you on?"
"It matters not, Renie, I shall go!"
"Are you madly seeking death?"
"No."
"If those men have recognized you, and are playing a part,
there will be no chance for you the moment that yacht crosses
the bar on her way out to sea."
The detective on the impulse of the moment, was prompted to
ask:
"Suppose they kill me, what will you do, Renie?"
The girl was silent until the detective repeated his question.
"I know what I shall do!"
"What will you do?"
"Roam the beach until all hope of the recovery of your body is
passed and then I shall lie down and die." She spoke in a
weird, despairing tone.
"And you have known me but a few hours."
"Yes, I have known you to speak to you but a few hours, and
yet I have come to believe that all the dreams of my life
center in you."
The young man advanced and seized the girl's hand; the latter
made no effort to withdraw it from his firm grasp.
"Renie," he said, "you need have no fear, I am not destined to
die at the hands of the smugglers. I am assigned to a certain
duty, the opportunity to fulfill my mission is now presented.
I shall go on the yacht to-night, but when she returns I will
return with her!"
"You are determined to go?"
"I am."
"I shall say no more, but I shall watch."
"Yes, Renie, do so; and when the yacht comes sailing up the
bay, you may know that I come on her."
"I shall not watch for the return of the yacht," said the girl
in a sad, despairing tone.
"What will you do?"
"Wait on the beach to see what the waves will bring me. If,
when the deed is done, the tide be flowing in, I may gain
something from the waves; but if the tide is on the ebb, I
shall never gaze on your face again."
There was no mistaking the girl's weird meaning, and her words
were practical, as she well knew the results which under
certain circumstances might follow the tidal conditions.
Spencer Vance saw that it was useless to waste further words
with Renie and he said,
"A few hours will tell the tale, Renie, and--"
The detective did not complete the sentence; voices were heard
and Renie exclaimed:
"You and I must not be seen talking together; farewell, and if
we never meet again on earth, may we meet where there are no
clouds, no shadows, no mysteries." The girl moved away and
left the detective standing alone on the beach. The sun had
gone down, the moon was just rising out of the sea, and the
whole surrounding scene was impressive and one of solemn
grandeur.
The detective stood motionless, and the ceaseless murmur of
the waves, as they broke upon the shore sounded like a requiem
in his ears; but not once did he waver in his purpose. It
might be that Renie would prove a true prophet, and if the
tide served right those very waves, or rather their
successors, might cast his body upon the shore; but despite
all, he was determined to sail on the "Nancy" that night to
win or die.
Two hours later there was quite a bustle on board the yacht as
she was being prepared to sail away.
The trip of the "Nancy" did not as a rule, exceed ten or
fifteen hours, as she only ran twenty or thirty miles directly
off the coast, where she cruised around waiting for the signal
to flash across the water front some incoming vessel, said
signal being an intimation as to the character of the craft.
Ike Denman, as commander of the "Nancy," was a different man
from Ike Denman carousing with the crew ashore.
The "Nancy" was what nautical men would call a magnificent
craft, and landsmen would naturally dub her a "daisy." She
had been built as a sea-going boat, in the most substantial
manner, and was indeed a stanch little mistress of the sea.
It was a beautiful evening as the mainsail was hoisted away
and the gallant boat glided over the waters of the bay across
the bar, and through the ruffled channel out to sea.
The detective had weighed well the words of the beautiful
Renie, and was on the watch. Her suggestion was apt, and, as
the detective thought over matters, he came to think that
certain little indexes pointed toward a confirmation of her
suspicions.
Indeed, it was an awful peril he was facing, were it really a
fact that the men had "tumbled" to his identity, and were
giving him a "blind," leading him, only waiting for the proper
moment to cast off their masks and throw him into the sea.
There was one incident in his favor: the men were not at all
reserved in the discussion of the business on hand. They
talked over the purpose of the night, and opened up their
expectations in the most unreserved manner.
The master of the craft, in his orders, made no distinction
between our hero and the other members of the crew.
Meantime the boat danced over the waves, and, after an hour or
two, was cruising across the track of inward-bound vessels.
Soon there came the announcement of the lights of a vessel,
and the "Nancy" was cautiously run on a course which would
enable her captain to take observations.
The lights proved to be those of an ocean steamer, and the
great leviathan, with its precious freight of human souls,
plowed past the taut little yacht distant only half a mile.
When the lights were first seen, the detective was standing
forward of the mainmast, and suddenly a pallor overspread his
face. If it should prove that the lights were those of an
incoming smuggler, the critical moment had arrived for him.
Our hero was intently watching the lights, as were the balance
of the crew, waiting for a signal, and so absorbed was he as
not to observe the presence of Sol Burton close by his side.
A few moments passed, and the lights were made out, and the
word was passed around, "It's a steamer!"
The detective turned to go aft, when he found himself face to
face with Sol Burton.
The two men had met as comrades once or twice before, during
the two or three hours the boat had been out on the sea, but
not a word had passed between them; but as they met after the
distinguishing of the lights, Burton addressed our hero and
said:
"You're the new man?"
"Yes," was the short answer.
"Your first trip on the 'Nancy?'"
"Yes."
There was a premonition, of danger in the next words of Sol
Burton.