By and by a shadowy figure came out from the cabin hatch. It made no noise and Marston would not have seen it had not the indistinct black object for a moment cut against the light. Outside the beam from the open hatch all was misty and dark. Still Marston thought the fellow knew he was there, because he vanished as if he had gone behind the mast. Marston did not bother about him and went down to the cabin. There was liquor on the table and Wyndham had obviously just drained the glass he held. His hand shook as he put it down, his face was rather white, and drops of sweat stood on his forehead. It looked as if he had got a knock, although Marston knew Harry's nerve was good. "I couldn't get near the curlew, so I came back," he remarked, awkwardly. Wyndham looked up, with an obvious effort for calm. "Oh, well, since you are here, you might turn out the boys and heave up the slack cable." Marston noted that Wyndham's voice was hoarse, but thought it better to conquer his curiosity. Harry might give him his confidence later, and in the meantime to heave the cable taut would obviate their bringing the boys up again. The tide was rising and they wanted to float the schooner off the mud. He went forward to call the crew and the clank of the windlass and rattle of chain were soothing, since they indicated that _Columbine_ was ready for sea. Marston owned that he would be glad to get away from the lagoon. He was occupied for some time and when he went back to the cabin Wyndham looked calm. "We'll keep her off the beach after this," he said. "Sorry you didn't get a shot. The curlew seem as wild as they are at home." "I don't want her to take the beach again," Marston remarked. "When do we sail?" "You'll sail as soon as the pilot thinks there's water enough on the bar. He comes to-morrow." "But you mean to stay?" "I must stay," said Wyndham. "We haven't an agent and I'm on the track of some business I can't neglect." Marston saw there was no use in urging his comrade to go. Harry's mouth was ominously firm. He wondered whether Harry would tell him what the mulatto had talked about, but he did not and soon after supper they went to bed. CHAPTER XI MARSTON GOES TO SEA The new moon shone in a clear sky and the tide was nearly full. Puffs of warm land-breeze shook the mangroves and drove small ripples against _Columbine_'s side. She rode to the flood stream, ready for sea, and the clank of her windlass rolled across the swamps. The negro crew were shortening cable and sang as they hove at the levers.