The fishermen dropped the brown tangled nets upon their shoulders and followed. They were all tenants, vassals almost, of the Ravenspurs and ready to do their bidding. The foe would have had a hard time did he fall into the clutches of these veterans. "I am going down to search the beach," Ravenspur explained. "I know that my nephew went out fishing this afternoon. I shall know his fate soon." It was some time before anything was found. Wass came stumbling over the rocks, and there in a clear pool he saw the boat bottom upward. At the cry of dismay that came from him, Watkins hurried up. "Give a hand with the painter, Bill," Wass said hoarsely. "There's the boat right enough with a good round hole under the gunwale." Ravenspur watched in silence. He saw the boat beached; he saw the hole in her side. Wass pointed to the mast where it had been sawn off. "Poor young gentleman," he exclaimed with a hearty outburst of grief. "And to think that we shall never see him again. Look at this, sir." "The mast seems to have been sawn off," said Ravenspur. "Almost off, sir," said Watkins. "Enough to give if a puff of wind came. And that hole has been plugged with soft glue or something of the kind. If I could only lay a hand on 'em!" He shook his fist in the air in impotent rage; tears filled his eyes. Ravenspur stood motionless. He was trying to bring the force of the tragedy home to himself, trying to shape words to tell Vera without cutting her to the heart. He was long past the more violent emotions. He turned to Wass like a man in a dream. "Go up to the castle," he said. "See my son Gordon and bid him come here. They must all come down, all aid in the search. Not a word more; please go." CHAPTER XLIII NEARER To Geoffrey the position was a strange one. There was something unreal about the whole thing. Nor was it pleasant to remember that by this time the family had missed him, and were doubtless bewailing him for dead. "I am afraid there is no help for it," said Tchigorsky. "I could not see my way to certain conclusions and ends without inconvenience." "Something more than inconvenience," Geoffrey murmured. "Anxiety, troubles, what you like," Tchigorsky replied coolly. "It is necessary. I want to have the castle cleared for a time, and I could think of no better and less suspicious way of doing it. The anxiety and suspense will not last long and by daylight your people shall see you again. And the one who is most likely to suffer has been already relieved." So Geoffrey was fain to wait in the cave listening to Tchigorsky's piquant conversation, and waiting for the time to come for action. "There will be plenty to do presently," the Russian said. "Meanwhile I am going to leave you to yourself for a space. The woman who regards me as her servant may need me. And, remember, you are not to leave the cave in any circumstances, else all my delicately laid plans will be blown to the winds."