The vivid light illumined the group upon the point, and the water flashed and sparkled as it ran eddying by, while from time to time a gleaming drop of golden fire dropped with a sharp hissing explosion into the water, and a silvery grey cloud of smoke gathered overhead. The officer stayed till the blue light had burned out, and then tossing the wooden handle into the water, he gave his orders to the men to row on out toward the other boats. The transition from brilliant light to utter darkness was startling as it was sudden; and as the watchers followed the dim-looking lanterns, they saw that about a mile out they had paused. George Vine uttered a gasping sigh, and his child clung to him as if both realised the meaning of that halt. But they were wrong, for when the men in the detective's boat had ceased rowing, it was because they were close abreast of the lugger, whose crew had hailed them. "Got him?" "_No_. Is he aboard your boat?" Without waiting for an answer, the detective and his men boarded the lugger, and, to the disgust of her crew, searched from end to end. "Lucky for you, my lads, that he is not here," said the officer. "Unlucky for him he arn't," said one of the men. "If he had been we shouldn't have had you aboard to-night." "What do you mean?" "Only that we should have been miles away by now." "Do you think either of the other boats has picked him up?" "Go and ask 'em," said another of the men sulkily. "No, sir," said one of the coastguard, "they haven't picked him up." "Back!" said the detective shortly; and, as soon as they were in the boat, he gave orders for them to row towards the faint light they could see right away east. They were not long in coming abreast, for the boat was returning. "Got him?" was shouted. "No." "Then why did you make the signal?" The detective officer was a clever man, but it had not occurred to him that the blue light he had obtained from the coastguard station and burned would act as a recall. But so it was, and before long the second boat was reached, and that which contained Duncan Leslie came up, the latter uttering an angry expostulation at being brought back from his search. "It's no good, Mr Leslie, sir," said the fisherman who had made the bargain with Vine. "No good?" cried Leslie angrily. "You mean you're tired, and have not the manhood to continue the search." "No, sir, I don't," said the man quietly. "I mean I know this coast as well as most men. I'll go searching everywhere you like; but I don't think the poor lad can be alive." "Ay, ay, that's right, mate," growled two others of his fellows. "He was a great swimmer," continued the man sadly; "but it's my belief he never come up again." "Why do you say that?" cried the detective from his boat, as the four hung clustered together, a singular-looking meeting out there on the dark sea by lantern light.